


Boo! Too Cute To Spook

by Lady_Iwaizumi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 31 Days Of Halloween, Accidents, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Bigotry & Prejudice, Boys Kissing, Brainwashing, Candy, Car Accidents, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Childhood Friends, Demonic Possession, Doomed Relationship, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Epic Battles, Falling In Love, Fic Graveyard, Fights, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Happy Ending, Hiding, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, M/M, Magic Revealed, Magic-Users, Major Character Undeath, Moving In Together, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Pranks, Racism, Recovered Memories, Repressed Memories, Secrets, Studying, Superstition, Warlocks, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 22:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 85,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15873399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Iwaizumi/pseuds/Lady_Iwaizumi
Summary: This October might just be the turning point for Bokuto's stressful life when he moves into a new apartment that just happens to be haunted by a playful (not to mention, CUTE) ghost named Akaashi Keiji.Where Bokuto’s a witch in love with a ghost, Kuroo’s a demonologist and Suguru is Suguru





	1. Halloweentown

**Author's Note:**

> Another Halloween fic for you all!!!! Chap. dates will be as followed:  
> October 1st  
> October 3rd  
> October 9th  
> October 13th  
> October 17th  
> October 20th  
> October 23rd  
> October 26th  
> October 28th  
> October 31st  
> This is one of my best works, if I do say so myself--the plot is just YES!!!!!! Lots of unexpected twists and turns. Yeet. oh, and Bokuaka!!  
> Thanks for reading! Please tell me your thoughts and leave a kudos and bookmark for later :)

_Monday, October 1 st 2018_

Moving somewhere new on the first of October was a bad omen. Bokuto Koutarou knew this, and yet, he was doing it anyway. After some urging from his best friend Kuroo and a lot of reasoning within himself following a dramatic, hysterical breakdown at his last apartment, Bokuto decided that relocating to a quieter portion of Tokyo _before_ Halloween arrived was best for his health. The only thing worse than moving on the first of October was moving near the _end_ of October.

Besides—Bokuto already had a lot of bad luck. He figured his life couldn’t get any more stressful than it already was.

“Yo, Bokuto,” Kuroo addressed, entering the apartment with another box. “Where do you want this one?”

“Just set it by the rest of them.”

The black-haired young man rolled his eyes when he looked over and saw a majority of Bokuto’s possessions stacked-up in the living room with no pattern what-so-ever. Most of them weren’t even labelled. Kuroo added another box to the pile, watching as his friend scurried around the new apartment nervously, golden eyes darting every few seconds; ever since a few weeks ago, Bokuto had been more paranoid than usual. Sure, he always got jittery around Halloween because the masks freaked him out (it had been that way since Kuroo could remember), but this was a whole new level of jumpiness. Kuroo watched the owl hop around for a minute before putting an end to its suffering.

“Calm down, would you? This apartment is _way_ quieter than your last one. Plus, it’s closer to the college—you really couldn’t have picked a better place.”

“I know, I know, but…but what if the neighbors are _porn stars_ again?!” Koutarou worried, looking at Kuroo with wide eyes. “I can’t go through that again!”

“Listen to me, Bo,” Tetsurou sighed, grabbing hold of his friend’s strong shoulders and stopping him from bouncing. “This apartment complex is like, eighty-years-old. What do you think that means?”

“Um…” Bokuto mumbled in thought. “That…it needs to be…painted?”

“Well…yeah, but that’s not what I was getting at. What I meant was that you’re the only resident under the age of seventy-five, okay? I’ll be your only visitor, and you don’t have to worry about noise or…sexually active filmmakers. You might run into a few old hags who claim they’re witches, though.”

While Kuroo was totally joking, Bokuto paled at the mention of witches and turned away, quickly agreeing with the other’s fair reasoning. This apartment was cheap, $400 a month, due to its run-down state, but it wasn’t _so_ bad; yes, the wallpaper was a dorky faded orange, the couch was ripped and probably really uncomfortable, but those were all things Koutarou could deal with. They hadn’t heard a single peep since arriving, and while that should have put Bokuto at ease, it only made him ten-times more suspicious. October already made him nervous enough, what with the superstitions, the predictions, the masks, the tricks, the evil lurking around every corner…charms would be sold in heavy amounts, but Koutarou himself wouldn’t be buying any, as they would only keep him further away from himself—whoever _that_ was…

“This is the last one,” Kuroo announced, returning with another box. Bokuto hadn’t heard him leave in the first place. The cat-like man set it down ungracefully and put his hands on his hips. “So—what do you want to clean first?”

“You don’t have to help me clean, Kuroo.”

“What else are friends for?” Tetsurou smiled honestly. “Come on—you tell me where to start and I’ll get to it. Personally, I think the kitchen could use a _major_ makeover.”

“Thanks for the offer, but you know I like to clean by myself.”

“Right,” Kuroo nodded, releasing his proud stance. They were silent for a moment, both taking in the scene of Bokuto’s new apartment—despite its age, the room seemed fairly welcoming, with an open living area connected to the cozy kitchen at the right, one hallway leading to the bedroom to the left and a bathroom and closet to the right. While there was a parking lot full of cars outside, you could hear a pin drop throughout the entire complex. “This really is a great place, though, Bokuto; despite your obnoxious tendencies, I think the peace and quiet will help clear your head.”

“Yeah,” The other man nodded eagerly. _Let’s hope so…_

“It kinda fits your personality, you know? Mysterious, a little on the creepy side—”

“Hey!”

“And once you get everything fixed-up, it’ll be the perfect place to bang some chicks!”

“Dude, you are _not_ bringing girls over here again!!! I don’t want this place contaminated like the last one!”

“Fine, fine!” Kuroo relented playfully, nudging Bokuto’s arm as he stood exasperated. “I’ll take my women somewhere else!”

“Damn right you will.”

The boys laughed at each other and shook their heads, amused at their childish conversation—Kuroo really was a great friend. This was the fourth time Bokuto had moved since starting university a year and a half ago, and Tetsurou took all his quick decisions in stride, not asking too many details when Koutarou tried giving a poor explanation as to why he was leaving. But what else could Bokuto expect from a guy he had been friends with since their pre-school days? If Kuroo only knew the _real_ reasons why his best friend hurriedly left all those other apartments…if he could only tell the taller man the _real_ reasons behind his breakdown two-weeks earlier…

If only Bokuto didn’t have magic.

“I guess I’ll leave you to it, then.” Tetsurou said, cat eyes gleaming even under the poor light of the living room. He turned to Koutarou slowly, expression friendly, but hesitant. “Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

Bokuto pulled Kuroo into a suffocating hug, like he did every time they parted ways, as if this was the last time they would ever see each other, or at least see each other in the same light as before. Tetsurou patted Koutarou’s muscled back weakly, tapping out of their embrace—Bokuto reluctantly released him, nodding in confirmation that he would be okay. Probably. At least until he ran into one of his new neighbors again.

Kuroo patted his bestie on the arm cheerfully, then headed towards the cracked door of the apartment—Bokuto suddenly didn’t want him to leave, and although they had discussed this before, he wished Kuroo didn’t have to live on campus. He wished they could live together, so the fear wouldn’t overwhelm Koutarou once more. Tetsurou was always braver than him, always ready to fight for what he believed in…but it was not meant to be. Kuroo worked as a graveyard monitor at night, but during the day, he was studying to be a demonologist, and going back and forth between the apartment and Tokyo’s Terror University (specializing in darker career paths) would get old quickly, since Kuroo was close with his teacher Sensei Nekomata; it wouldn’t be fair for the young demonologist to be bothered with Bokuto’s antics while he was trying to get shit done. Demons were not to be trifled with. The university was where Kuroo needed to be in order for his career to take off, where his connections were, where the idea of demons and ghosts didn’t seem so far-fetched. Kuroo knew where he needed to be.

Now if only Bokuto could find where _he_ needed to be.

Tetsurou felt a chill go over his arms when he opened the door—that was the third time it happened, and while he didn’t want to freak his best friend out when they had only been in the apartment for an hour…ever since they arrived, Kuroo had felt uneasy. From his deep studies of demonology, he was trained to feel when a presence was near, and unfortunately, there was definitely _something_ in this apartment. Whether it was a demon or not, Kuroo couldn’t tell. He felt that he should warn Koutarou never the less.

“Bokuto-kun.”

The grey and white-haired young man turned to look at him, big eyes wide with anticipation.

“Don’t forget to breathe, okay?” Kuroo reminded him. His expression was serious.

“Right.” Koutarou exhaled, nodding. “I won’t forget. Thanks for everything, Kuroo.”

“No problem. Call if you need anything, okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t let the skeletons grab your ankles.”

“Don’t let the porn stars keep you up at night. Have fun!”

 

Bokuto rolled his eyes and turned around to face his apartment as Kuroo closed the door, leaving the resident to his new home. For now, at least. Koutarou hadn’t found a place where he belonged in all his twenty-years, and while he doubted it would start here, he wanted to try his best. The world was quiet once more, and in an attempt to drown out his doubts, Bokuto yanked the radio out of a box and hit play; the last eerie, hushed lullaby he listened to before moving drifted through the speakers as he stood straight, listening to music float through the empty apartment.

_If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain…_

_If you cut me with a knife it’s still the same_

_And I know her heart is beating_

_And I know that I am dead…_

_Yet the pain here that I feel_

_Try and tell me it’s not real_

_For it seems that I still have a tear to shed_

Bokuto released a deep breath, per Kuroo’s reminder, then determinedly headed towards the window in the living room that faced out towards the streets of Tokyo. He yanked the tattered curtains over the glass, preventing anyone from seeing inside; he did the same with the window in his bedroom, humming along with the song all the way. Koutarou ignored the hairs rising on the back of his neck while making his way back to the living room.

_The sure redeeming feature from that little creature_

_Is that she’s alive, overrated, overblown_

_Everybody knows that’s just a temporary state_

_Which is cured very quickly when we meet our fate_

_Who cares? Unimportant, overrated, overblown!_

The college student stood very still for a long minute, the lyrics mumbled off his stiff lips as he tried pushing aside all self-deprecating thoughts; the living room was darker, now, but not so much that Bokuto felt lonely. After making sure the complex was quiet and still, Koutarou took another deep breath and raised his arms.

_If only he could see_

_How special you can be_

_If he only knew the you that we know…_

“Volitant.”

Two dusters shifted in a box, sneaking out of their confinements and hovered in mid-air.

Like every time Bokuto used his magic, he held his breath and bit his lip anxiously, fearing someone hidden in the apartment would come running out and accuse him of witchcraft and paganism, or whatever else the superstitious community of Tokyo feared. Honestly, he had mastered the art of levitating objects and moving them without speaking verbally, but sometimes saying the spell out-loud helped him come to terms with the idea. Magic, you see, was banned and greatly feared by the older generation of Tokyo, and their hunts for magical creatures or those who studied magic was most severe in the last few locations where Bokuto resided. Koutarou couldn’t exactly remember when this prejudice began, but he knew that it hit an all time high when he was a young boy—the paranoia his mother had, the punishments she subjected onto his poor soul whenever he used magic, the posters and wanted signs he would see pinned up at the post office…it was safe to say Bokuto had every reason to be jittery moving into a new apartment. He wasn’t sure what these people were like, if they were sneaky and gossip-filled, or if they would be over-bearing and accidently walk in on him using magic…

For now, at least, Koutarou focused on moving each duster at a moderate rate, brushing off the dusty shelves, tables, corners and sills of his new apartment.

_If I touch a burning candle I can feel no pain_

_In the ice or in the sun it’s all the same_

_Yet I feel my heart is aching_

_Though it doesn’t beat, it’s breaking_

_And the pain here that I feel, try and tell me it’s not real…_

How someone could ever fear magic, Bokuto would never understand—he had never known or heard of anyone who used it for evil intentions in all his life. Looking at the scene now, with the dusters flying around and collecting dust, leaving behind a spotless surface, Koutarou was irritated that he had to keep his magic a secret. At the very least, this particular sector of Tokyo was very into Halloween, and the community was a bit less inclined to ruin the occasion by hunting for witches and carrying burning stakes around. Or so he heard. Bokuto could feel his powers being interfered with his distracted heart and pushed away these thoughts so he could move to the bedroom and other rooms, moving the dusters with only his mind.

_I know that I am dead…_

_Yet it seems that I still have some tears to shed_

 

By the time Bokuto was done cleaning, the sun was beginning to set, but his apartment was sparkling from cleanliness. It was the first time in weeks he smiled honestly, strolling into his kitchen for some food as the radio shorted out suddenly, though the detail went unnoticed by Bokuto; the fridge was the first manner of business he and Kuroo took care of, so everything was freshly stocked, the milk still in date, the vegetables still brightly colored.

“Descendit,” Bokuto mumbled. The light switch went down, illuminating the dreary kitchen as Koutarou hurried over to his pantry, taking out a packet of ramen, despite all the healthy food options in his fridge. “Nothing beats a steaming bowl of ramen with ham chunks!”

Koutarou rolled-up the sleeves of his navy-blue plaid shirt and got to work, dumping the ramen noodles into a pot and taking out a few slices of ham to chop up; the back of his mind noticed the strange silence that had taken over the apartment, but Bokuto himself was too busy humming and cooking to let himself notice. First days were his favorite—usually everything went downhill after the first night, but the owlish man was trying to be positive. Life was good: he had a new apartment in a quiet neighborhood, ramen with ham chunks, a comfy bed, a job at _Ghoulish_ _(“Potions and novelty items for all your superstitious needs!”_ ), and a best friend to help him when times get low. With Halloween just around the corner, Bokuto figured he would be asking Kuroo over for dinner quite often, if only to scare away any demons lurking within the apartment.

The ramen was done in record time, and Koutarou sat down alone at the round table to eat to his heart’s content; slurping noises filled the room as he munched and read at the same time, spotting his college papers lying on the edge of the table. _Kuroo must have taken them out to make sure I didn’t switch my major on him_. _I guess my breakdown would cause some uncertainty in this category…I change my mind a lot!_ Bokuto thought, scooting the papers closer to him. _Maybe I should work on that._

_ Full Name: Bokuto Koutarou _

_ Birth date: September 20th _

_ Age: 20 _

_ Dorm: Off Campus _

_ Major: Divination _

_ Class List: _

_ Advanced Divination Methods—Tuesdays, 10:30 A.M. _

_ Omens & Signs—Tuesdays, 1:15 P.M. _

_ History of Divination and Magic—Thursdays, 9:00 A.M. _

Koutarou had no desire to major in divination, honestly…the entire teaching method centered around hoaxing. Bokuto was the only one who could actually use his energy to predict customer’s futures, but then they would get all freaked-out and the teacher would applaud him. It made Bokuto feel bad, though, and he hated wasting his time and money on something he didn’t want to do, but…what else was there _for_ him to do? He couldn’t use magic to get a job, and that was essentially the only thing Koutarou thrived at, and he hadn’t even practiced it in years! He and Kuroo were talented at volleyball, but high school and collegiate volleyball were two different stories. No major at the university centered around magic—if anything, their knock-off classes showed you every possible way to trick people without using magic. It was all a big scam, a slap in the face to magical people, especially the History of Divination and Magic class Bokuto was taking. His jerk of a sensei was basically a Nazi towards magic users, always ranting about how evil their roots are, how they tampered with divination by infecting it with their powers…

But Bokuto could never speak up, because speaking-up meant revealing himself.

The entire time he spent scanning his papers, Bokuto felt like someone was reading over his shoulder—what made matters worse was seeing the box that contained the rest of his paperwork sitting in the living room, seemingly not opened or disturbed in the slightest. Another fairly heavy box sat directly over top of it. While that was eerie, Koutarou considered himself an expert at ignoring omens (despite having a class dedicated to recognizing types of omens, both good and bad) and continued to munch on his ramen, drinking the last of the soup when he was finished. To keep himself busy, Koutarou reluctantly began washing the dishes, desperately trying to shake off whatever was close to grabbing hold of his beliefs and revealing itself to be true. Bokuto really didn’t do well in pressure situations. Kuroo was more of a leader, never afraid of anything, per his major at the university—the spikey-haired young man living in this apartment was not so. Much, if not all, of this paralyzing fear could be traced back to his unspeakable childhood that involved his mother mentally abusing him for his powers, often resorting to physical violence as well…it was all very damning to a child as perky and quirky as Bokuto.

_Don’t think about it. You cannot erase the past, but you can write the future. You cannot erase the past, but you can write the future…_

Koutarou’s mantra didn’t work today. His nerves were too jittery, his coping mechanisms failing on account of his unstable energy that hadn’t fully recovered from his mental breakdown a few weeks before. Why had he let his mental state collapse, again? Was it the realization, the remembrance of October and the many horrors it never failed to bring the poor young man? Was it the poster he saw at the college, reminding all students to report any magical beings? His magic zapped and shorted out on him, like Albus Dumbledore’s younger sister who was forced to contain her magical powers for many years, resulting in a flurry of uncontrollable magic. When he closed his golden eyes, the only images Bokuto saw included his mother’s palm hurtling towards him, the cross she threw at him, the closet she locked him in, the needles she would prick his fingers with…they attacked Koutarou’s very soul as he sat frozen at the table, struggling to prevent the memories from infecting his mind—however…this type of attack seemed different, somehow. Bokuto almost felt like someone had entered the apartment and was now physically assaulting him in some fashion, beating his willpower down like a _demon_ would. Similar to his childhood wishes whenever Bokuto found himself locked in a dark room (curtesy of his mother), the college student wished Kuroo was here. Tetsurou was strong. Sometimes the young witch wondered why his best friend wasn’t the magical one in their friendship. It should have been the other way around, he thought.

 

Because Kuroo’s instincts were always correct: Bokuto Koutarou of Tokyo Terror University wasn’t the only person living in the apartment.

 

“L…Liber!” Bokuto gasped.

 _Free_.

The presence holding onto Koutarou’s chest vanished, taking with it the weight on his shoulders keeping him chained down in fear. He gasped in relief, stumbling through the living room and plopping himself onto the couch tiredly, suddenly very mentally exhausted. Bokuto knew his heart was still recovering from _the_ _incident_ , but he knew for damn sure it wasn’t so fragile as to go into a panic unprovoked like that—something or someone else had to be at play here. Fortunately for Koutarou, he was too in denial to investigate further.

“I need a nap! Yeah! A nap!” Bokuto said to himself, adjusting the dirty pillow underneath his head. “Just a quick nap…before I get my sheets out and make my bed. Yeah!”

The grey-haired man switched the TV on a random channel and proceeded to toss and turn for a solid seven-minutes before finding a comfortable position on the aged couch, cuddling his head into the pillow while desperately trying to calm his heart-rate down. _It’s all in my head, it’s all in my head_ , Bokuto thought, although he was lying. _It’s a new, nice apartment right by the college, near Kuroo and the potion shop! It’s great! It’s perfect! And the couch is pretty comfy, and it just needs better wallpaper, and maybe a little paint—and tomorrow I have class, and then work, and Suguru will tell me to start putting Halloween decorations up! I like putting the decorations up. And those soft sugar cookies with pumpkins on them…those are yummy._

The presence in the room drifted past Bokuto’s relaxed form. He ignored it and kept rambling.

_I better remind myself to find the Halloween decoration box, so I can put those up first. Maybe Kuroo will help me, if he isn’t too busy…_

The one good thing that had come from Bokuto’s horrific childhood was his ability to put himself to sleep without using magic; reminding himself about a few of his favorite things always did the trick. The student fell asleep within minutes, quietly snoring as the apartment went silent with respect—all the other tenants must have been sleeping, too.

 

It was best to get enough sleep on the first of October in preparation for the sleepless nights to follow during the rest of the month.

 

Bokuto’s “nap” lasted until about eleven at night, at which he finally woke-up and groggily tried to remember where he was. At first, he thought Kuroo’s TV was sitting in front of him, but that didn’t make any sense, because Kuroo almost always left the TV on for some background noise when Bokuto slept over. Koutarou exhaled heavily, sitting up slowly as his golden eyes struggled adjusting to the pitch darkness of the living room—it was dawning on the young man that something was amiss, as he hadn’t turned the stove light on (replacing the light of the kitchen ceiling) nor had he turned the TV off. The red light on the remote was illuminated, causing Bokuto to take a double look, as it was now sitting on the edge of the coffee table, versus on the floor where he had dropped it before crashing on the couch.

Suddenly very awake, Koutarou sat up in alarm and quickly scanned the apartment as his sight adjusted.

The chilled October moonlight broke through the ratty curtains effortlessly, beaming across the living room and shining directly on the pile of boxes that had shrunk drastically in size; several of the boxes had been moved, and one quick glance at the kitchen revealed where. The box with all Bokuto’s dishes was sitting on the counter, their shadow brightened by the stove light, making everything that much more eerie. The one holding his grandmother’s table decorations sat on the table.

“What…the _fuck_ …”

Koutarou stood in a hurry and jerked his head to the left, struck with fear when he saw the bathroom boxes sitting in the hallway by their respected door, empty as can be. He shoved the possibly of Kuroo pranking him out the window, because Kuroo would never _dare_ do that during October, or anytime, really, and he was working at the graveyard tonight. If Bokuto didn’t know what he did, he would think this wasn’t possible. There was no logical reason for what he was witnessing. Through experience, Koutarou knew the boxes hadn’t moved on their own, and it sure as hell hadn’t been caused by his powers.

Scared shitless, Bokuto made a run for it to his bedroom.

He had never been so thankful for his athleticism before this night, taking a few quick, long strides and slamming the door behind him—whatever demon inside the apartment could easily walk through the human barrier, but it would have to do for now, because Bokuto couldn’t remember the barrier spells he used to practice and silently cursed his controlling mother for being the cause. Without hesitating Koutarou buried himself under the bedsheets (no, he didn’t remember putting those on and purposely ignored the bedroom boxes sitting in the corner) and began mumbling a song his mother used to sing. She may have been the meanest, cruelest person in Tokyo, but the one thing she had incidentally gifted her son with was this nice song—it was the only Halloween song he ever liked, and every Halloween, after the horrors were over, he would sing it to Kuroo, because the lyrics reminded the young owl of his best friend.

“Black cat, black cat, please come here…I won’t hurt you, n-never fear…”

Bokuto’s grip on the sheets tightened as he swallowed nervously, praying whatever had moved the boxes wouldn’t hurt him next.

“There may be shadows all around, dark and rustling shapes that creep and dart along the ground,” He sang weakly. “Black cat, black cat, don’t you fear…there are no real monsters here. If you come down from that tree…”

The only surviving picture Bokuto had of a relatively peaceful Halloween night from years ago (this time there was only seven incidents instead of twenty) reappeared in his memory: Kuroo’s parents had taken the photograph outside their house. The boys were both sitting on the steps in their Halloween costumes, Kuroo ironically dressed as a black cat and Bokuto as his pet owner—he refused to dress-up, no matter what anyone told him. Not Kuroo, not his other friends, not even his mother.

They didn’t understand that he already wore a costume every day of his life.

 

“You can join my family and come home with me.”

~~~-~~~

At first, Akaashi didn’t have high hopes for the new tenant of apartment 4B.

 

There had only been a handful of them over the past twenty-years or so, and they were all terrible, irritating humans whom Keiji could not live with. The first ones were pot smokers, the second was a prostitute, the third smelled like garbage, the fourth was unspeakably unsanitary, and the newest had a strange hair do. None of the less, other worldly being Akaashi Keiji was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, and observed this college student carefully as he moved in with the help of his friend, who also had a bad hairdo. Was messy and spikey the new trend these days? Akaashi didn’t know. The people who lived in this apartment complex weren’t exactly caught up with reality. None had been the same since the first tenant in apartment 4B died in a tragic accident in 1996. They avoided that hall at all costs, leading whoever belonged to that apartment to leave hardly after a month of living there. It was a lonely place, but it seemed this new tenant was already so lonely the atmosphere didn’t affect his spirit. He had a pleasant voice, although at certain octaves it was unbearably loud and obnoxious, but still many steps above than the creepy, cunning voice belonging to the young man’s friend.

The last person to live longer than two-months in this particular apartment was the ghost who now haunted it: Akaashi Keiji, an ex-student of Tokyo Terror University, who lived in the apartment for his first year of schooling. He was a student of curiosity, one who went far and beyond to discover the truth behind magic and magical beings; ironically, his death was one of the first incidents that pushed Tokyo’s society to become fearful and superstitious over magic. The ghost did not know this, of course, as those who live in the spirit world knew nothing more of the human world than what they saw where they stood stationed forever. Akaashi would be devastated to learn that his love for magic was now forbidden, in a sense, and ridiculed as being nothing but a hoax. This deceased student was now the one who watched the living with bitterness and sadness, the one who wished he could have lived his life out peacefully, versus walking around in the world of the undead for the past decade. It wasn’t pleasant, and it wasn’t a fantasy land like some researchers thought. At first, Akaashi was almost pleased to have been turned into a ghost, as many of his questions concerning the supernatural world were ignited and answered—but…after a few years of being invisible, Keiji realized just how lonely death was. The spirit world was not a place of friendship. It didn’t answer all the questions he longed for, even while he was living, and it only stirred more melancholy within Akaashi’s aching, dead heart.

 

Maybe that was why, despite the strangeness of this new tenant, Keiji wanted to have high hopes.

 

Akaashi watched from a corner as the black-haired man brought in another box, cat-like eyes scanning over the living room once more; this one was trouble. Keiji noticed how in tune to his surroundings he was, how he looked over when the ghost moved his position, how he seemed to react in time with every one of Akaashi’s changes. Thankfully, the catish man left his friend after they moved everything in, which left Keiji to turn his attention elsewhere: this odd young college student resembled a great-horned owl of sorts, with spikey grey and black hair, high arched eyebrows and stunning golden eyes that would have been brighter, had his attitude not been marred by some kind of dark secret. The ghost of the apartment was used to these feelings, but never had he felt this aura radiate from one of the humans occupying the space he previously lived in. Despite the tenant’s emo attitude, he seemed to be a goofy athlete of sorts, upper body broad with muscle, narrowing down to a slim, strong waist hidden by a plaid shirt and beefy thighs covered by loose jeans. At first, Akaashi thought he might have potential to be a normal guy, but then a leaf fell out of a cabinet and the man shrieked as if he had seen a mouse.

 _What a giant dork,_ Keiji thought, watching the young man curiously as he moved about the apartment, taking a radio out of a nearby box _. Maybe this one will stay for a while. These are cheap apartments, and if he’s a college student, he’ll be needing to save his money to pay off loans._

Akaashi was pleasantly surprised to hear a nice song drift through the speakers; it was sad, but light, and the lyrics described the ghost rather well. The athletic man hurried around the apartment, covering all windows and other openings for some reason while humming along to the tune—this was already more action than Keiji had experienced in the last ten years.

 _…It will be nice to have company, though,_ Akaashi thought _. It’s been pretty quiet these past few years; there’s not much to entertain anymore. Hopefully this guy won’t be staying up all night partying with his cat frie—_

“Volitant.”

Akaashi’s attention was caught in a flash, and his head snapped to the left so fiercely it might have been injured had he been alive—Volitant. That was Latin. Keiji studied Latin as part of his projects concerning witchcraft. Why did this kid know Latin? He didn’t look the type to be studious, nor did he look the type to be interested in dead languages…

Something was moving inside one of the boxes.

Keiji almost remained unaware for a solid minute, eyes watching as two dusters fluttered through the air and began dusting off the dirt on every corner of the apartment; he was back in that trance-like state of amazement, the same feeling he had seconds before his untimely death. Akaashi studied magical beings because he wanted to know their secrets. He wanted to live within the magic, the wonder and out of this world experiences—when he saw those hand dusters moving back and forth in mid-air, without a hand to guide their strokes…the decades he spent as a ghost trapped in this apartment all seemed worth it.

Finally. Tokyo Terror student Akaashi Keiji had located a witch.

While there were theories ghosts couldn’t feel emotion, Akaashi’s happiness and shock was real, overpowering whatever irritation he had at new tenants moving into his old apartment. It was like he lived again, brought back to life by this simple spell meant to ease the task of cleaning, spoken by someone who knew their magic well enough where they could clean other objects while still maintaining the dusters with their mind powers. It was a scene Keiji had wanted since he began studying, the only answer he wanted since discovering the idea of witches and sorcery when he was a young boy; this strange, wild haired young man was using _magic_. Just like that. As if the concept were easy, simple, effortless—Keiji could only stand in the corner of the room and gape as his spirit jolted with excitement, watching the dusters dance around with fascination clear in his eyes.

 

Maybe this new roommate had been the missing link Akaashi had been waiting for in life, and in death.

 

Time was an illusion to Keiji, but he realized he must have been stationed in one place for at least an hour when the athletic man put the dirty dusters away for the night; in a hurry to find out more about this young tenant, Akaashi located some paperwork at the bottom of a box and laid them on the table so he could scan their information. _Bokuto. That’s an interesting name_ , the ghost thought, quickly reading the class schedule. _Divination major. Not many students take that class anymore…at least they didn’t in the nineties. But why would someone with magical abilities major in a class where they used everything BUT magic?_

On instinct, Keiji hid when this Bokuto person entered the kitchen, though he lingered near the sink to watch what would happen next. He hadn’t used any more magic after the dusting incident, that Akaashi had seen, which was greatly disappointing to the spirit; he was, however, entertained by the way Bokuto moved around the kitchen with goofy movements, plopping down at the table and reading his own paperwork as he slurped on ramen noodles. There was juice all over his lips by the time he finished, the sight disgusting his unseen roommate to the max. Akaashi had a strong urge to reach out and wipe the boy’s mouth like he would to a child.

 _He must know something’s here_ , Keiji realized, watching as Bokuto all but sprinted down the hallway. _His magical senses probably make his awareness stronger than his friend’s._

_Good—that should make it easier for me to test his wits._

Admittedly, Akaashi enjoyed giving his scarce roommates a few scares now and then—he was eager to see how Bokuto would react, if this man really did possess magical powers. The boxes he failed to open and organize would be perfect; Keiji could help the young man unpack while also freaking him out a little. It wasn’t that he wanted to scare the kid shitless until he left…Akaashi just liked company, and he had this strange need (as he did in life) to test those souls around him, to see if when cornered, they ran or stayed put. Character tests, if you would. In his ghost state, Akaashi had access to the real emotions of those living creatures around him—therefore, he could sense the “emo levels” of anxiety spiking from Bokuto the divination student as he tried going to sleep in his new bed.

 

Akaashi decided he would keep that in mind while pranking the young man, and got to work unpacking the boxes.

 

_Tuesday, October 2 nd_

The following morning was not a pleasant one for Bokuto. He hadn’t slept well all night, and yet somehow, he managed to sleep through the alarm on his phone and woke up at 10:14. Advanced Divination Methods started at 10:30, and the walk to university was at least seven minutes—as the witch was hurriedly throwing clothes on and chugging chocolate milk, he forgot all about the creepy incident from last night that caused him to sleep in. Koutarou didn’t spare another glance backwards before slamming the door shut, throwing his jacket on while breaking into a sprint down the sidewalk, hoping he would make it on time. Sensei Washijo from Shiratorizawa did not take kindly to late students, and since he already hated Bokuto, it was crucial that he made the class on time. Early, if humanly possible. The cold fall air was chilly against Koutarou’s face, but his run proved successful, and he made it inside the classroom with one minute to spare—he was still glared at by his teacher, but managed to spare himself of a savage lecture. Unfortunately, Sensei Washijo was Bokuto’s _only_ teacher, and by the time his second class of the day came along in the afternoon, Bokuto was sick of his pessimistic, racist comments.

During Omens & Signs class, one student asked why magicians tried using magic to alter omens.

“Certainly, it was because they wanted attention,” Sensei Washijo said gruffly, making Bokuto raise his head. “Attention meant press, and press meant attempts—their scams made them more money if there was rumor that magic was involved. As I’ve told you before, this class and the others you take are meant to teach you how to interpret divination _naturally_ , not with unnecessary help or interference from fake sorceries who simply want nothing more than money to live off.”

Koutarou raised his hand boldly, and Washijo sighed.

“Bokuto.”

“Um…I was just wondering, Sensei Washijo-san, if…if it’s possible that divination _itself_ was invented by magic users.”

“We’ve been over this multiple times, Bokuto, and I wish you would start listening to the answers given before getting caught-up in your thoughts so heavily you cannot hear my reply.” Sensei replied sharply. “Divination is simply looking at mystical, sometimes heavenly signs discovered in our world and connecting them to futuristic events that may or may not happen. There’s nothing magical about that, is there?”

Bokuto bit his lip to keep from replying and lowered his head in a nod.

“I…guess not…”

“Discussion closed. Now I want you all to read the remainder of chapter six, and be sure to look back on the other chapters we’ve read so far, as your next paper subject will be related to such…”

The rest of class went about as well as the first half, and when the ball rang, Bokuto had never been happier to escape the eagle eyes of Washijo. _I’m really going to have to ask Kuroo what the signs of a demon possession are_ , Koutarou thought seriously as he exited a ramen shop later in the afternoon. _Sensei gets meaner every day, and let’s not forget how racist he is! Demons are racist, aren’t they? Maybe I can spare myself from damnation by entertaining it with magic tricks. They like magic, don’t they?_

Bokuto released a tired sigh as he slipped the key into his apartment door knob, walking in casually for someone who kind of knew their apartment was haunted. It took him until the bowl of ramen was uncovered to remember the frightening incident from yesterday; Koutarou froze in his standing position, hand burning on the side of the steaming ramen bowl as the memories of sprinting away from an unseen devil rushed back to him.

“C-Crap,” Bokuto stuttered, eyes wide as he slowly glanced around the room, scared of what he might see today. “I forgot…that was so weird!”

_Maybe I should stop talking to myself out-loud. They might be listening. Well…at least they know how to read…they put the boxes all in the right places, even the ones I didn’t label. Totally weird. But I guess I’m in no position to call something weird—they probably judged my duckie shower curtain._

After releasing a quick breath, Koutarou resumed his meal and sat down at the table, curiously looking around the kitchen where everything was set-up in an orderly fashion. Kuroo would approve of these organization skills, even though they had yet to lay out all the Halloween decorations; most of Bokuto’s were put up as a disguise (all normal humans had Halloween decorations), but he did enjoy a nice carved pumpkin once in a while. He tended to stray away from moving objects meant to scare children when they came up for candy—Kuroo had pranked him too often with those evil things when they were children. The entire month of October was dangerous for Bokuto, not just Halloween night; October was the month of all months for superstitions, and unfortunately, Bokuto fit the bill on many of those insecurities. As long as his boss Suguru didn’t find out about his magical abilities, the witch figured he would be okay. Suguru had a tendency to run his mouth, and if word got around that Bokuto was what he was…

Well. He could probably kiss living in Tokyo (or living in general) goodbye.

Suguru inherited the charm shop _Ghoulish_ from his father, who, ironically, married Kuroo’s widowed mother about three years ago; Kuroo and Suguru were not close step siblings. In fact, Bokuto would even describe them as hating each other. Your late teen years are not good times for new fathers and immature step brothers—their relationship was miles away from the comedy movie, and about a thousand steps away from a real brotherly bond. Koutarou didn’t mind getting caught in the middle of their arguments, because they were pretty entertaining, but sometimes things would escalate to physical altercations, and the witch didn’t want to be the person who had to tell Kuroo’s mother how her son and step-son both got black eyes. Kuroo usually stayed away from _Ghoulish_ unless he was in the neighborhood or needed to talk to his best friend; the weird part of their relationship was that they got along with each other’s parent just fine. Kuroo liked Suguru’s father, and Suguru adored Kuroo’s mother, his new step mother, but those two…well, their personalities clashed. Kuroo grudgingly suggested Bokuto ask Daishou for a job at the shop because he knew his best friend didn’t function well with so much free time to ponder his role in the world.

 

So that was how Bokuto ended-up working at a charm shop in Tokyo: step brotherly hatred.

 

 _Witch sounds way cooler than warlock_ , Koutarou thought, sipping the last of his ramen. _But if I were to be exposed as a witch, they would burn me on a stake twice as hot, because then they’d think I was a cross-dressing magical being! That would suck. But as long as I keep my magic contained, we won’t have a problem. Unless I run into anoth—_

“…Ramen… _again_?”

Bokuto bolted around, expecting to see Kuroo standing at his doorway with a teasing grin on his lips, but there was no one. No one in the living room, no one in the kitchen beside him, no one in the hall…but Koutarou could have sworn he heard someone comment on his meal choice. The voice sounded so _real_ and _near_ —Bokuto scanned the entire apartment slowly, wondering if he overlooked a robber hiding somewhere in a corner, but even his second investigation led to nothing. There was nobody else home, and yet, Bokuto heard someone speak to him.

“Haha…” The witch laughed painfully, rising from his seat. “Okay…”

To distract from whatever creepy-ass incident was happening now, Bokuto decided to take a nice hot shower to clear his mind. There were Halloween movies waiting to be watched, big fluffy sweaters and thick wool socks waiting to be worn, not to mention, five bags of hot chocolate in the pantry waiting to be chugged. If it weren’t for this particular month, Bokuto would really be enjoying the autumn season. For some reason the living room window was open, letting in all the cold fall air that would soon lead to wintery flurries; Koutarou shut it firmly and pulled the curtains back once more, then hurried to the bathroom. He admired the fancy set-up while getting undressed, taking note of old bathroom decorations he didn’t know he ever had—thankfully, the water system worked well, and Bokuto stepped inside the glass shower gracefully, humming in relief when the warm droplets splashed over his shivering body.

“Black cat, black cat, please come here…” Koutarou sang quietly, wetting his hair down. “I won’t hurt you, never fear…”

Something odd about the atmosphere put the witch on edge. He couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably under the shower of water, feeling like he was on a nudity display at a circus or something…it reminded him of the time Kuroo caught his creepy stalker girl looking through a peep-hole into his bathroom at the dorms last year. Apparently she had been watching him for quite some time without him noticing. That was how Bokuto felt now, and even when he looked for a secret peep-hole, he couldn’t find one; while that confirmation should have comforted the young man, it didn’t in the slightest, and Koutarou peeked through the condensation on the shower door several times before mumbling a half-hearted threat under his breath.

“Listen here, you freakish demon ghost thing,” He said, staring out at nothing, although something unseen to his golden eyes was standing in the corner of the room. “I may be vulnerable to your sick methods of torture, but I have— _m-a-g-i-c_ , so you better watch your back, mister or miss!”

There was no reply, which left Bokuto feeling a little stupid, but it was almost as if the creature heard him, because the creepy feeling vanished, and the witch was left to shower peacefully. He was still planning on opening one of his old spell books to exorcise the apartment tomorrow, though—the last thing Koutarou needed in the month of October was a haunting. Maybe it was his wretch of a mother. Had she really followed him all the way across Tokyo? She loved torturing Bokuto, so he didn’t doubt the possibility, though he thought the paranormal activity would have been much more severe if it was her. In fact, he would probably be bloodied by a flying lamp by now if his mom was in fact haunting him.

 

_I’ll have to ask Kuroo about this. Will he think I’m losing it again?_

 

Bokuto was emotionally exhausted by the time he finished showering, and it seemed he had daydreamed a lot longer than he thought, because it was already time for bed by the time he got his pajamas on. Between getting chewed out by his bastard teacher again, not being able to see Kuroo because of booked schedules and the eerie aura of the entire apartment, Bokuto was ready to fall into a semi-permanent coma, curtesy of the one spell he used consistently, constantly against his mother’s wishes. He could stay away from every spell but this one, because it helped him fall asleep, and sleeping was a terrible struggle for the energetic young witch even now that he was older. How could Koutarou sleep knowing his mother was the kind of person who would lock him in a closet for using harmless magic?

 _I’d rather be haunted by one of Kuroo’s demons than my mother_ , Bokuto thought sadly as he cuddled into bed, sure to leave his pumpkin night-light plugged in by his side. _Can’t people who die just…stay dead? Why do they always have to come back? It must be some kind of sick joke on people who use magic. It’s not my fault I have powers! My dad probably had magic…but since I’ve never met the guy, also curtesy of my wonderful, caring mother, I guess I’ll never know where this curse came from._

The bedroom was quiet and free of another’s presence, allowing Bokuto to get comfortable before turning the lamp off and whispering the name of a spell he knew by heart.

“Ad tempus somno.”

_Temporary slumber._

Immediately, that gentle rush of sleepiness rushed over Koutarou’s forehead, relaxing his tensed muscles and slowing down whatever tornado was bustling around inside his brain. Bokuto exhaled heavily, letting his head fall into the pillow snugly as sleep overwhelmed his senses, silently urging him to shut down for the day; despite the speed of this spell, Bokuto knew it only aided him with sleeping and nothing else.

When the sullen, dark month of October hit, nothing could stop the dream from happening.

Poor little Koutarou had been having this Halloween dream since as long as he could remember; it wasn’t made of memories, but more like disturbing warped versions of the past, Bokuto’s worst fears and worries. It never changed, never created a new ending, never altered even the tiniest of details, colors, settings or positions. It was the same every year, and yet every year, Bokuto would wake-up almost every October night panting and breathless from utter fear, the reality of dream worlds too real for him to bear. The dream was equipped with skeletons, demons, his mother, trick or treaters, blood, rustling leaves, black cats, and even Kuroo—

Of all Bokuto’s worst fears, losing his best friend was the first. And in this haunting dream of All Hallow’s Eve, Kuroo was always the first good thing to be lost. The sick part was that everything started out so happy, so carefree and fun, like every adventure always was with Tetsurou…

 

_“I can’t stay for too long, Kuroo, my mom will get mad!” An eleven-year-old Bokuto said, following after Kuroo as the latter ducked under tree branches in the forest. “What are we doing here, anyway?”_

_The pair skipped and jumped through the winding maze of the nearby forest, whose trees were bare and stripped grey from harsh fall weather; Bokuto was a few feet behind Kuroo as the latter scurried ahead, running towards an open area that lacked trees or bushes. He didn’t answer Koutarou, staring straight ahead as his friend struggled through a web of branches._

_“Hey—Kuroo! Wait up!”_

_“Hurry, Bokuto!”_

_“I’m coming!” Bokuto laughed, hurrying after Tetsurou._

_When he finally managed to step over the trap of sticks and stones, Koutarou realized that Kuroo had somehow gotten far ahead of him, and was already standing in the middle of a dimly colored meadow area. Bokuto didn’t like being alone in the forest, so he ignored the sticks scraping over his bare knees and jogged towards his friend—upon setting foot in the pasture, Bokuto froze with petrifying fear._

_He couldn’t move. He didn’t want to move, had no desire to flinch and disturb the witch’s grounds they had stumbled upon; Kuroo didn’t seem to see the problem, as he was standing right in the middle of a large inverted pentagram made from some black liquid stretching all around the perfect circle shape of the opening. Koutarou’s mouth was hung open in shock and terror so severe he couldn’t bring himself to call Kuroo back. This was not right. They shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t have come this far. It was all wrong. They were disturbing the grounds, Bokuto knew that much even though he never practiced this kind of witchcraft—but he lost the ability to speak, powers frozen after this confrontation._

_Koutarou’s burning golden eyes managed to peek upwards. Kuroo was on the move, going to turn his way, every movement painfully slow as his sneakers crushed various stick ornaments and objects the witches made; Bokuto wanted to tell him to stop moving, knowing it would only trigger a storm of evil their way, but his voice hadn’t even made it to his mouth before being shot back down at the sight of Kuroo, fully turned around, wearing a plague doctor mask over his face._

_Even though the long nose of the bone mask was covering Kuroo’s lips, Bokuto could see his sick smile, could see a pair of red cat eyes glimmering with malice; the strong smell of sage, juniper berries, mint, cloves and rose petals stuffed inside the beak end of the mask made Bokuto’s eyes water painfully, but he couldn’t look away._

_He probably never would have looked away, had the scene not flipped around, bringing him to a similar location, but an entirely different feeling surrounding it._

_Bokuto’s mother was dragging him through the now-windy forest at night time, her long red nails gripping her son’s thin wrist tightly, ensuring he couldn’t run off into the woods. Koutarou was cold, only wearing his orange pumpkin shirt and black shorts, but that was the least of his concerns—as he glanced behind them, peering through the darkness with a frightened expression, he could see his best friend lying on the cold ground, half-slumped against a tree, unconscious. Kuroo had his red devil costume on, though the horn headband was crooked, the tail bent as his lower body laid against the tree limply._

_A branch snapped to Bokuto’s right, and he jerked his head in that direction as his mother continued pulling him._

_Through the darkness it was difficult to see clearly, but Koutarou’s other worldly vision allowed him to dig deeper, allowed him to spot the hidden Grim Reapers watching the moving objects without moving themselves. They were tall, frightening creatures, hiding behind trees here and there and shuffled into groups on Bokuto’s left; the long, dangerous reaping weapons were nearly as tall as their owners, the moon above creeping through the dark shadows to reflect off these omens. Koutarou reached out and tugged on his mother’s sleeve, desperate for her attention._

_“Mom, look—!”_

_“Did I say you could speak, witch?!” She snapped aggressively, jerking his wrist. “Silence!!!”_

_“But Mom—”_

_Ms. Bokuto stopped for a split second, only long enough to raise her hand back in a threatening position. Koutarou silenced himself immediately and let his body be dragged further and further into the forest, continuing down an uncharted sector Bokuto was not familiar with. The sharp air whipped against the young boy’s shivering body as he struggled to keep up with his mother’s pace, tripping over stones and prickly sticks as he stared wildly at the Grim figures increasing in number the more they walked. The night seemed to last forever until the scene changed again on a blink of Koutarou’s eyes, seconds after his mother came to an abrupt stop._

_Bokuto gasped loudly, heart racing with panic as he glanced around, realizing he was on the streets of Tokyo’s inner-city on Halloween night. The shops were decorated with spider webs and skeletons as carved pumpkins sat outside on the streets beside bowls of candy for the children—only…the children weren’t on the sidewalks. No one was running around and singing Halloween songs, or even making scary noises to scare other trick or treaters. After one glance, Bokuto saw most of them running down the middle of the street, screaming their heads off and pointing back at him with horror. They tripped over their costumes and lost their shoes, but didn’t stumble back to grab them._

_“Būgīman, Būgīman!” One screamed._

_The Boogeyman, the Boogeyman._

_Bokuto slowly glanced down at the heavy object weighing his hand down; it was his favorite plastic pumpkin candy basket, overfilled with so much candy there were mounds of it on the street surrounding him. Child-like screams echoed through the bustling city of Tokyo, which seemed to be filled with frightened people shouting “boogeyman.” Koutarou looked around in a panic, trying to find his mom or Kuroo or anyone who could help explain the situation—but the only people in sight were three old ladies at the end of the block. They were standing stiffly in front of the Ghoulish shop, or what it looked like maybe twenty-years ago before Suguru took ownership; Bokuto only watched in fear as they stared with lifeless black eyes, their badly patched knitted ponchos swaying with the wind as they waved nazars back and forth, back and forth, back and forth._

_Everything changed again._

_Bokuto sprinted towards the forest as an angry mob chased after him, their intentions clear as they threw pitchforks, fire sticks and other fatal objects his way. Their screams and insults followed Koutarou everywhere, but he tried to ignore their meaning and focused on running far away, skittering through the cobwebs blocking his vision at the entry of the forest. He knew better than to look back._

_“Killer!”_

_“Put that savage to rest!”_

_“Burn him at the stake!!!”_

_The grey and white-haired young boy pushed his legs to run faster, letting his magical senses guide him through the pitch darkness, moon no longer visible to anyone’s eyes with the exception of the dead. One of the rioters launched his fire stick meant to give them light at Bokuto—it came in contact with his back, but did not burn the clothing nor Koutarou’s flesh. He kept running and running, lungs aching from fatigue, throat burning from the tears threatening to spill from his dim eyes at the trauma he was facing. Why were they chasing him? What had he ever done to them?_

_Suddenly, Bokuto’s pace was broken by someone yanking his right arm to the side._

_“Let go!!!”_

_Koutarou slapped and pushed at the invisible hand holding his elbow, knowing the mob wasn’t far behind them, but when he opened his fierce eyes to spot the culprit, he was shocked to see a transparent ghost looking back at him. They had no distinct facial features, no defining body shape, and yet, their grip on Bokuto was cold and sure._

_“Come,” They said. “Come.”_

_At Bokuto’s hesitance, he was flipped over and dragged by his ankle, the shouts and cries for help ignored as the spirit pulled him deeper into the forest, not caring about the scrapes and bruises it was causing the young witch. Koutarou thrashed, reaching side to side in hopes of grabbing onto a solid object, but every stump and rock evaded his grasp, the ghost too fast for its victim. They made their way through majority of the forest within minutes, and Bokuto finally scavenged up enough strength to flip himself onto his stomach, yelping when his knees twisted uncomfortably; he was pulled faster, now, but through his desperation he managed to claw at the ground and defer the journey some, latching onto a few rocks and large branches here and there. But it only helped for a moment._

_The wind pushed past them as Bokuto dared to turn his head, spotting the location they were headed to—a hole even darker than the bitter night sky above the forest sat at the base of a large tree, uninviting, swirling with evil, oozing black smoke that seemed to morph into hand-like shapes, beckoning the spirit closer._

_“No!!! Stop!!!!!”_

_“Bokuto!”_

_While it was Kuroo’s voice Koutarou heard, making him gasp in happiness, Tetsurou was not there when Bokuto looked forward: instead, his mother’s image whipped by as the ghost increased his speed, hurtling towards the black hole, following the whispers willingly. Bokuto’s breath was knocked out of him after colliding with a rock as he was dragged, but he still called out to his mother._

_“Mom!!!” Bokuto screamed bloody murder, reaching his arm out desperately. “Mom, HELP!!!”_

_Koutarou gasped when he suddenly felt the ghost take a long drop behind him, their cold grip tightening when it felt resistance—the witch had grasped onto the only visible tree branch sticking out of the ground, hoping this would allow his mother a minute to rush over and help him escape._

_“Mommy!!!” He cried, tears falling as the black shadows began overwhelming his figure. “Mommy!!!!!”_

_As desperate as Bokuto’s cries were, they did not affect his mother. He felt his heart break in two as she stood some feet away, smiling with relief at the sight before her; her grey hair suddenly seemed less aged, more youthful in the blowing wind, free of the stressful responsibility of raising a young witch. Her sadistic smile pained Bokuto so much his grip on the branch faltered, and the spirit yanked his body downward._

_“NO!!!”_

_Koutarou was pulled half-way into the hissing hole, hands still clinging for a savior and head still above ground—but only barely. He was given no time to search, however, attention trapped by a carved pumpkin smiling down at him, sitting on top of a web of black branches. While the object had no hands, it was holding a spinning fortune telling ball within its grasp; Bokuto’s vision was blurry as he struggled against the spirit holding his ankles, but he could see well enough to watch the ball fall and shatter on the ground._

_Bokuto didn’t need any more bad omens. But that never stopped them from happening._

_“NO!!!!!! STOP!!!!!”_

_The witch’s body was given another violent jerk from below, and his desperate hands reached as far as they could, miraculously grabbing onto something solid—Koutarou gasped through the black smoke surrounding him, pulling him further down the gateway to hell, but he had not yet given up, and peeled his eyes open to see what he had grabbed: as it turned out, the solid object was nothing more than a stick that was part of a witch craft symbolizing their coven. The branches turned boiling red, and in alarm, Bokuto jerked his hand back, not realizing his mistake until it was too late._

_Koutarou screamed as the ghost and all other forms of evil pulled him under while his mother laughed._

 

Like every night Bokuto had this terrifying dream, he woke with a start, gasping and sweating with absolute panic in his bed; his large hands grasped at his chest, which felt disturbingly empty, per the ending of the twisted nightmare. The witch tried to remember the calming methods he used, but they were lost to his mind as Bokuto struggled to catch his breath, choking and coughing over the suffocating feeling of being dragged to hell.

 _Water_ , Koutarou forced himself to think. _I need water!_

On shaky legs, Bokuto stood off the mattress and made his way out into the hallway, touching the walls to ensure he didn’t lose his balance and fall. Every morning after that stupid nightmare was always awful. Despite how long the dream was, Koutarou didn’t consider himself actually _sleeping_ when it took place, and since he could never fall asleep after the fact, school was difficult to stay awake during, and it was even harder trying to get off the subway if he rode along. _Calm down. Calm down. It’s okay, it’s okay_ , Bokuto lied, hurriedly grabbing a glass and filling it with water. _Just drink and breathe. Drink and breathe…it wasn’t real, it isn’t real, it will NEVER be real…_

The college student gulped down the entire glass, feeling his heart rate slow down ever-so-slightly; he gasped loudly after finishing, hand still trembling from fear. Bokuto kept his eyes closed tightly for a minute before slowly opening them, glad to see nothing but a normal cabinet filled with cups in front of him. He wished he could believe the mantras he told himself. They really were smart and might work for normal human beings, but unfortunately, Bokuto wasn’t normal. He had to be a freak, an _outsider_ , the kind of person others feared and were prejudice against—it was this reoccurring nightmare that made Koutarou hate himself. But he attempted to flip that thought around on him by remembering a different mantra.

_All things real are reoccurring, all things real are reoccurring…Kuroo is real…my classes are real…my powers are real…this apartment is real…_

Koutarou took a shaky inhale, then exhaled deeply.

_My life is real._

The witch stood at the counter for a few minutes, just reflecting and evening out his breathing; while it was no use trying to fall back asleep, Bokuto at least wanted to lay back down and cuddle-up under the warm blankets and his favorite quilt, the one his grandmother gave to him as a birthday present—she knew he loved fall, and since his birthday was in September, she made it autumn themed, with leaf patterns and yellows and oranges, plaid swatches, little edges of hot chocolate fabric and an entire side of cute, brown owls on orange fleece. On nights like this, it always made Bokuto feel a little better about himself. He only wished his grandmother hadn’t died when he was very young—maybe she would know how to make the nightmares go away.

Koutarou sighed sadly and contained his shaking limbs enough to gently set the cup down, which he had previously been squeezing so tightly the glass might have broken had he held on any longer. _Maybe hot chocolate would help_ , the witch brain-stormed as he turned around. _But I’m too tired to make a cup. I could stop by that one coffee shop and get some, I suppose…though it is out of my way, they make damn good hot chocolate. It’s totally worth—_

 

Bokuto’s eyes stopped on two different sights as he turned around, facing the living room: firstly, they landed on the electric clock he hadn’t remembered plugging in. Its neon green numbers read exactly 5:55 in the morning. Secondly…after he glanced at this seemingly important detail, Koutarou’s yellow eyes widened, moving right and landing on the person standing in front of his living room window.

Their shape was both illuminated and turned nearly invisible because of the bright moonlight shining in, showering them in a white glow; that cold feeling of fear overwhelmed Bokuto once again, assaulting his senses as he stood in the kitchen, gaping at what he was seeing. The student knew damn well he wasn’t trapped in the same nightmare, because his nightmares never changed, and whoever this… _person_ was had never met the likes of him before. Koutarou could only stand and stare as the male figure turned around achingly slowly to face him.

A barely audible gasp escaped Bokuto’s throat.

The thing standing at his window was a young man, probably around his own age; their expression was terribly sad as their bluish-green emerald eyes drifted upwards to stare at the new apartment tenant. The moonlight revealed all their physical details, including their thin, athletic frame, the dark obsidian shine of the man’s messy hair, end pieces sliding into slight curls—they looked like an angel descending from the highest of heavens, the whitest of clouds from above. Koutarou was shocked at the clear skin, the straight eyebrows and pale lips belonging to the young man, who said not a word as he stood at the window sill. This was always how Bokuto imagined death to be. This was always the lovely images he thought up while locked in a dark closet. After all the pain and suffering, he imagined the brightness, the perfection that overcame every physical being once they passed, gently nudging them in the direction of wherever it was they were headed.

But when Koutarou’s eyes drifted downwards, away from the sad face of the handsome man, the mood quickly changed, and it became clear that death might not be what he was witnessing.

A bloody, positively _ghastly_ wound covered the lower portion of the man’s abdomen and hip area, dripping a dark substance onto the carpet, although it disappeared after a second of lingering as if nothing had stained its fabric. The injury was revealed because of a huge rip in a light blue t-shirt the figure wore (or wore at one point…), seemingly torn because of a hard impact or jagged edge of some sort—the wound was dark and violent, oozing blood from every angle and every opening, adding to the dejected expression of the owner. His stance wobbled all the sudden, ghostly body weak from painful memories and moonlight that revealed all his darkest secrets, his identity and story—whatever prettiness he had before was replaced with horror and gore, even as the clock switched to 5:56 a.m., taking most of the natural light with it.

 

Bokuto didn’t get a chance to blink the image away before passing out onto the kitchen floor.


	2. The Conjuring

 

_Saturday, October 6 th_

The following morning, Bokuto was shocked to find that he actually woke-up on time (or woke-up at all…) and was equally shocked to find himself lying on the couch—he hadn’t forgotten the ghostly incident from the night before, and his new position only made the witch that much more fearful of whatever the hell was going on inside this apartment. While Koutarou wanted to rant about these problems to Kuroo, he also didn’t want his friend thinking he had lost his mind again; at Bokuto’s last apartment, Tetsurou had walked-in after several days of not being in contact with the divination student, only to find him locked in a closet violently rocking against one of the corners like an asylum patient. The entire apartment was a total mess, as if it had been ransacked by someone, but Bokuto said not a word, didn’t give a single explanation as to what had happened—Kuroo came to the conclusion that the stress of college was too much for him. His guess had been somewhat accurate for someone with no knowledge of his best friend’s gifts: Koutarou suffered a mental breakdown from the stress of hiding his abilities, hearing his mother’s sharp words whenever he messed-up, suffering under the mental abuse of his teacher and fellow classmates at school…

Bokuto didn’t want to see that confused look on Kuroo’s face again. Therefore, he forced himself to keep this eerie incident quiet.

For the past few nights, Koutarou had been spending much of his nights visiting Kuroo at the graveyard where he worked and the public library a few blocks down. Bokuto had never been one to study very hard, and that was still the case now, but he feared his apartment severely, and as a result, did not want to sleep there until he was sure the other night had been a hallucination. Was he exhausted from lack of sleep? Yes. Did he want to fall asleep in the corner of a library where anyone could steal his possessions? No. But what other choices did he have? If he asked Kuroo to take him in, the demonologist would know something was wrong, and the last thing in the entire world Bokuto wanted was for his friend to be worried. He was sick of everyone worrying about him. By everyone, he meant Kuroo alone. Since he was fresh out of ideas, Bokuto spent his time pretend studying at the library deep into the night. Currently, his sleepy eyes were scanning over a book Kuroo lent him on performing exorcisms on houses or locations.

“When you perform an exorcism on a house, be sure to have other witnesses around during the blessing, as this will give strength to your commands,” Koutarou yawned, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Exorcisms may be read by one priest or other persons in positions of power, but having several others aid the process has been proven to further solidify the damning of the demon-like creature out of the building and back to hell.”

The side lights of the library were turned off suddenly, making Bokuto jump a foot off his chair.

“Attention all customers,” A quiet voice said over the intercom. “The library will be closing in ten minutes. Please make sure you take all your personal belongings with you when exiting the building.”

“Son of a…” The witch cursed under his breath, picking up a book he knocked over. “I really need some sleep.”

Usually after the library closed Koutarou would head over to the cemetery to bug Kuroo, but tonight, he was overly exhausted from lack of rest, not to mention, as hungry as a baby werewolf. What he needed was some good food and a good night’s rest—with a pout, Bokuto gathered his belongings and headed towards the library exit, tucking his chin into his scarf before the cold wind struck him. _This is ridiculous!_ Koutarou told himself, slowly walking down the dark street as the library closed behind him _. I let a ghost take over my new apartment? I’m the only one alive here, I should be the one taking charge! I mean…ghosts are scary, but I can take it, right? Kuroo doesn’t want me bugging him anymore, I’m sure…_

Decision made, Bokuto nodded firmly to himself and sped up his pace. Firstly, he was going to pick-up some dinner from the restaurant down the street—then he was going to go home, relax in his apartment tell that bastard spirit what’s what.

Probably.

 

The first part of Koutarou’s plan was easy enough; he ordered some delicious Chinese food for the go (who knew restaurants stayed open past one in the morning?), enough to eat leftovers for the next few days. The second part of the plan even went relatively smoothly—when Bokuto made it back to his apartment, he threw the door open and boldly stepped inside, slamming the door behind him as he narrowed his eyes at the unchanged scene ahead. Nothing had been moved as of recently, but that didn’t stop Koutarou from watching every corner for movement, setting his Chinese food down quietly in hopes of hearing some action (and NOT porn star action). Nothing creepy happened upon the witch’s arrival, but that meant nothing to him. Paranoia was Bokuto’s worst characteristic, thanks again to Kumori Bokuto. When the ceiling creaked, he jumped and covered himself in fear. When someone closed a door down the hall, he flinched and almost spilled his food. After so many minutes of cursing himself for being so spineless and weak, Koutarou managed to sit at the table (without seeing a shadow dart across the room, even); never the less, that uneasy feeling settled over his body again when he went to open the food containers. It was true that this feeling followed Bokuto wherever he went, but…this wasn’t the same energy. This was someone new.

And that was what got him so shook-up.

“You better watch it,” Bokuto mumbled as he took his chopsticks out, too afraid to announce his threat loudly. “I know how to exorcise a house, and my best friend is a demon hunter.”

It was 1:20 a.m. by the time Koutarou considered it safe enough to eat, and he munched on the food quietly while awaiting another visit from the bloody ghost, going so far as to glance at the living room window every few minutes. None of his research at the library involved spirits or ghosts (he was too chicken for the first few days to even _think_ about hauntings), but Bokuto knew some facts about them from his previous readings in magic books, along with various horror movies. His only real ghost experience before this point happened long ago, when he once tried to conjure the spirit of his grandmother, and even though the ceremony was interrupted by his mother (who locked him in that evil closet again as punishment), Bokuto managed to contact her through an Ouija board he discovered in their attic. She did not appear in physical form, but a warm brush of air tickled Koutarou’s cheek, and he could suddenly smell fall spices and hot chocolate: it was easily identified with his beloved grandmother, but he never used the conjuring board again after a violent incident following in which a different, malevolent spirit entered the board. His mother gave him a savage beating for that one…he had bruises for weeks, and Kuroo kept asking if he was okay…

Bokuto shook off the memory and ate with shaking hands, recalling the warmth of his grandmother’s gentle touch to ease his nerves. It only helped a little, because the witch could still feel that damn irritating sense of someone watching his every move—after a certain point, the student’s strong resolve broke, and he hurried to the bathroom in hopes that hiding would make the presence disappear.

Then again…that never worked with his mother, and if the method wasn’t strong enough to defeat his mother…

Thankfully, the creepy feeling wasn’t as strong in the bathroom and Koutarou peed in peace, though he did shield his lower parts from view as he did his business; as he washed his hands, he made the mistake of looking in the mirror at his own terrifying expression.

Lack of sleep was getting to him. Bokuto’s eyes were bloodshot, the bags underneath them dark with fatigue; his skin wasn’t looking too well either, all dry and saggy, even grey in some parts…no wonder the cute girls at the library didn’t check him out anymore. He looked like a ghost himself. His mother always said he looked like his “bastard of a father,” which didn’t help the poor kid’s confidence much, but he liked to think his father was just a little more handsome version of himself. Koutarou splashed his face with cold water, feeling a bit better after waking-up further, but his appearance was still iffy. Still, there wasn’t a large chance he would sleep soundly tonight, even if he used a spell or took one of those mediocre medicine humans liked to make.

 _Whatever_ , Bokuto sighed to himself, exiting the bathroom and walking back to the kitchen. _It’s not like I could handle a relationship right now, anyways…they would send me to the nuthouse after one date. At least they can’t tell my mother on me anymore…then I would really be screwed—_

Koutarou froze in alarm as he made it to the kitchen table. His breath caught in his chest, expecting a horrifying sight, trained to build a wall over his heart in preparation for something terrible—what he saw _was_ terrible, in a sense, but not the kind of terror the witch expected. All six boxes of Chinese food were gone, seemingly vanished, no longer on the table, disappeared without a trace. Bokuto’s shocked eyes immediately trailed over to the open garbage can in the corner, and he hurried over to inspect the damage: there laid his dinner, neatly set in the bottom of the garbage, chopsticks and all.

“Ha ha, very funny!”

Bokuto grumbled under his breath and reached into the garbage to grab the containers—at the very least, whoever threw them away hadn’t done so in a way that the food was now inedible; everything was still upright, and since there wasn’t any other garbage at the bottom, Koutarou didn’t feel bad about taking the boxes out and continuing his meal, though he swore he heard a laugh echo throughout the apartment as he reached into the garbage.

Out of bitterness and a bit of stubborn attitude, Bokuto chomped on the rest of his rice loudly, still pouting even as he put the leftovers in the fridge. The laugh he heard _almost_ made him feel better, but only a little. He had been working all day in a fatigued state, so the witch decided to ignore the haunting for now and take a nice hot shower. Suguru had been more energetic than usual today, decorating this and that for Halloween, rushing Bokuto all around the store, left and right, up and down—it was exhausting working for a snake.

Bokuto sighed several times as he stripped his body of clothing and hurried into the shower, blasting the warm water in hopes that it would make him melt. Unfortunately, Koutarou’s body stayed intact throughout his soaps and shampoos, and he let his mind wander to peaceful, void places while rubbing conditioner through his wet locks of hair. _I should probably call Kuroo tonight,_ the witch thought to himself quietly, peeking his eyes open. _I haven’t been doing a good job of hiding my anxiety. I’ll have to fake enthusiasm and tell him how excited I am for our up-coming divination report. He won’t buy that shit…what else could I fake happiness over?_

The college student sighed deeply once more and fully opened his eyes once all the bubbles were gone from his hair. There were heavy amounts of condensation on the glass shower panels and steam seeping out into the rest of the bathroom, almost so much that it would be difficult to see anything if Bokuto wiped off the fog from the shower. He remained unaware of the uncomfortable, horror-film-like atmosphere until his right arm felt a rush of cold air, completely out of place from what the rest of his senses were feeling. Koutarou turned his head lazily, though the casual act quickly turned to panic when the cold air front remained at his right side, and the condensation on the shower panel beside him was wiped away in a disturbingly human-like pattern.

Bokuto’s mouth hovered open in shock as three words became clear to him.

**_I SEE YOU_ **

“P-Pervert ghost!” He cried, hand swiping through the chilled area of the shower to hurriedly turn the knob off. Koutarou practically jumped out of the shower, heart pounding with annoyance and fear as he wrapped a towel around his waist, not bothering to wipe off completely. Two pranks in _one_ _day_? Bokuto couldn’t handle two pranks in all of October, much less, two within _one day_ of October. The ghost had been in the _shower_ with him! Not _beside_ the shower, not waiting in the bathroom, but _IN_ the _SHOWER_ with him—Kuroo would shit himself if Koutarou told him about this. At least he would believe the facts backing it up, like the cold air, the uneasy feeling, the food dumped in the garbage…Tetsurou was the only person willing to believe Bokuto, so the witch sprinted to his room half-naked and snatched his cell phone off the bed; while his fumbling fingers tried clicking on Kuroo’s contact, the chilling cold front had entered the room behind him.

“Call Kuroo, call Kuroo!”

Bokuto finally managed to hit the number, but before he could bring the phone up to his ear, the ghost lurking in the doorway pulled their final prank of the night:

 

Following a tiny whoosh of air, the entire apartment went black.

 

Bokuto didn’t scream. He didn’t flinch or gasp or even cry. He just stood there, frozen in a standing position, unable to breathe, unable to blink. Total blackness overwhelmed his eyesight, blocking it with images of nothingness, images of the worst hell he could ever imagine up. When Kuroo’s voice came through the phone, Koutarou didn’t reply.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping, Bo?”

The witch said nothing, body suddenly tingling with limpness. The cell phone fell to the floor with a _thump_.

“Hello? …Did you butt dial me again?”

Koutarou could hardly breathe, lingering in between a state of unconsciousness and a state of severe, harsh consciousness. The cold air remained where it was.

“I’m hanging-up. Get some sleep.”

_Beep beep beep._

The telltale beeping noise signaling the end of the phone conversation was what alerted Bokuto back to reality. Light. He needed light. The darkness was too much to handle—he needed light and he needed it right now. With a rush of nothing like courage or bravery, Bokuto jerked into movement, body trembling from head to toe, each nerve dangerously shaking and threatening to give-out from underneath the witch. Koutarou’s wide eyes headed in the direction where he thought his night light was, but he went too far too quickly and crashed into the wall; it was the correct wall, at least, but upon falling to his knees to plug the night light in, Bokuto’s clumsy hands wildly knocked the ornament off the plug-in. His only source of comfort crashed against the mattress railing, breaking into several pieces.

Now the panic began to set in.

Koutarou shielded himself in the corner of the bedroom by hiding his head behind his knees, arms wrapped around himself protectively while the darkness morphed into shapes around him, the room seeming to get smaller and smaller on account of the witch’s previous experiences. His breathing was starting to be affected by the increasingly thick air of the bedroom, stuttering in his chest and resulting in nothing but short little huffs of oxygen that did not aid the situation. It was all too similar to Bokuto’s childhood, where he didn’t know where the bad guys were, couldn’t see where they came from, and without a source of light, there was nothing stopping his memory from reliving every torturous detail he tried so hard to repress over the years. It was odd to Koutarou that even when his mother was the direct source of his agony towards darkness, he longed for her presence.

 _I want my mommy. I want Kuroo! Where’s Kuroo?!_ The witch thought frantically, unable to get a grip as he rocked in the corner. _I want my grandma…I want my blanket…I want my night light to work…I want my stuffed owl Boo…can he help me find the light? I don’t like the dark…I’m scared…I wanna go home!_

 

During Bokuto’s silent rambles of anxiety, the bedroom light turned back on.

 

The grey-haired young man gasped upon seeing a beam of yellow light sneak through the smallest of gaps between his left arm and knee—immediately, he jerked his head upwards, eyes watering with sweet relief when he saw the bright lightbulb on the ceiling shining in every corner of the room. The hallway lights and bathroom light were on, too, but it still took Bokuto a long moment to recover enough to release his tense protective pose. Whatever cold air that caused this horror was gone from the room. For now, at least.

“T-Thanks.” Koutarou whispered quietly.

Not a single noise echoed throughout the apartment complex when Bokuto stood on weak legs, regaining enough of his breath to secure some oxygen in case of another attack. He was still half-naked with only the wet towel to shield his lower parts—the student had a small amount of bravery stored-up deep within his soul, which he now used to grab some pajamas and throw them on before hurrying to bed (without turning the lights off), hiding under the covers like a scared little child. In most ways, Bokuto _was_ a scared little child—his mother made sure of that long ago. Koutarou tried to comfort himself by thinking of his favorite things, but his head was too mentally exhausted for advanced methods such as. Magic was a big no-no whenever the witch’s emotions were running dangerously high. As a tiny, tiny comfort, Bokuto spoke to himself in a hushed voice.

“I’m only afraid of the dark,” He told no one in particular, though someone else was listening intently. “I’m only afraid of the dark…the dark is scary. I don’t like being in the dark…”

Another memory came flooding back to Bokuto, attacking his heart more severely than the sudden darkness had.

_“Come on,” Bokuto’s mother said emotionlessly, pulling her son down the hall. “No son of mine is going to be caught doing witchcraft. You will learn how to shut it off, Koutarou.”_

_“No, Mom!” Bokuto begged, tears springing to his eyes. “Please don’t put me in the closet again!”_

_A week ago, he had spent the night of his fifth birthday in the hallway closet, the first occasion on which his mom used the tiny space as a punishment. It was the worst experience of his short life, and the boy had no desire to repeat the process, but his mother had different plans. She caught him using magic to impress Kuroo once again, and even though Bokuto knew no one else had seen them in the forest, his mother insisted people were watching._

_“Don’t struggle,” She snapped, stopping at the eerie brown door. “You must learn your lesson.”_

_“No!” Koutarou whined fearfully, tears falling down his cheeks as his mom turned the knob. “Please, Mommy, I promise I won’t do it again, I promise!!!”_

_“Promises are lies coming from the mouth of a witch.”_

_The door opened, revealing a small five-by-five closet empty of anything but a few specks of dust; as much as the boy wanted to use his magic to escape this situation, he knew that would only worsen his relationship with his mother. He tried staying silent, but the idea of staying inside that closet for a long period of time caused his heart extreme amount of fear and pain._

_“When you come out, I will have the needle ready.” His mother warned, though Koutarou had yet to know what that meant. “Do not make noise like you did last time, understood?”_

_Her son only cried as a response, planting his feet firmly on the ground in hopes of preventing her from dragging him into the closet—it was so, so dark in that closet. There were no windows, no lamps or night lights, no cracks in the door, no matches, nothing. Bokuto was always too worked-up to do magic, but even when he tried, his spells would only blow up in his face because of how emotional he was. He hated the closet. He hated the dark. But his mother didn’t care._

_“In you go.”_

_“No!!! NO!!!”_

_Bokuto was roughly shoved inside, hands pried off the doorway as his mother forced him in, pushing him on his knees so she could slam the door behind him. The boy screamed with agony and turned around, trying to prevent her from locking it, but to no avail. Once that loud slam was heard, Koutarou knew it was hopeless. Darkness was his enemy. He couldn’t see his hands, couldn’t see an inch past his face, couldn’t even tell where the closet started and ended—it was horrifying. Koutarou was scared. He didn’t understand why his mom did this to him, why she locked him in here so violently, why she didn’t give him light or his stuffed animal, why she didn’t give him food and yelled at him…he didn’t understand why she wanted him to be trapped in the dark, so he pounded on the door while he still knew where it was._

_“MOMMY!!!!!!! LET ME OUT!!!!!!!” He screamed and bawled, hitting the door with his aching fist. “LET ME OUT!!!! PLEASE!!!!! I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY!!!!!!”_

The memory stopped in a hurry. Koutarou didn’t know why, didn’t really _care_ why, because he was finally falling into a deep slumber after so many sleepless nights following the ghostly incident. He didn’t question as to who pulled the warm covers back over his shoulders, or who took the wet towel off the floor and hung it back up in the bathroom—for tonight, Bokuto asked no questions, and fell asleep, hoping to avoid his Halloween nightmares for one night.

~~~-~~~

_Lovely Bones Cemetery, 1:23 A.M._

Kuroo frowned as he took the phone away from his ear, not seeing how Bokuto could have accidentally dialed his number when he rarely ever remembered to put his cell phone in his pocket. He was air-headed like that.

The graveyard was quiet tonight, free of late night visitors or scoundrels trying to rob graves for whatever fucking reason kids robbed graves for these days. Tetsurou slipped his phone away and continued his walk down the rows and rows of headstones, following the pattern of B’s until he found his way to a familiar section, one he visited every so often in hopes of getting a better perspective on his best friend. All Bokuto’s relatives were buried in this cemetery together, including both Koutarou’s beloved grandmother and wicked bitch of a mother. With all the drama surrounding the divination student over the course of the past few weeks (and his entire life…) Kuroo found it appropriate as his best and only friend to find out why such strange things happened around Bokuto that caused him to move often and keep his emotions bottled up inside. The graveyard was dark with the exception of a few dimly lit lampposts and Tetsurou’s flashlight, which he shined in front of him while approaching the Bokuto graves.

First up was a few distant relatives Kuroo had never heard of. Following their vague descriptions was Koutarou’s grandmother, who passed away when the boys were about five years old. Tetsurou remembered her distantly, her warmth and kindness towards both of them, especially her only grandchild; she made the best pumpkin bars ever, and he and Bokuto would eat them until they got pleasantly sick, upon which they would lie on her couch and watch Halloween specials while she tended to their aches. Kuroo wished his friend would have been raised by her instead of the _other_ woman—

Tetsurou frowned when his flashlight shined on the darkest headstone out of the entire graveyard. It wasn’t considered the darkest because of its grey coloring.

 

_BOKUTO KUMORI_

_May 6 th 1976—November 11th 2014_

_Aged 38_

_Resident of Fukurodani_

“A plain headstone for a plain woman,” Kuroo scoffed. “This fits her perfectly, Bo.”

Koutarou’s witch of a mother died when her son was sixteen, during his second year of high school; despite the unspeakably horrible things she did to Bokuto, he was still affected by her oddly timed death. The son and his best friend were the only people who came to the funeral aside from the priest. That had to prove _something_ was wrong with Kumori Bokuto, right? Kuroo stared long and hard at the impersonal words printed on her tombstone, trying to decode a secret about the evil lurking through the dead woman’s cold veins—the demonologist in training knew the word m-a-g-i-c was taboo in Tokyo, but sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder. Part of why Tetsurou become a demonologist was because of Bokuto’s mother: whenever Kuroo had the misfortune of being with Koutarou when his mother came home, he saw some pretty suspicious signs that all pointed to the paranormal world. Kuroo wanted to know if people acted badly because of _what_ they were or _who_ they were—the barrier between the two options was thin, but the more he studied, the closer and closer he got to uncovering the mystery of the Bokuto family. Kumori (whose name ironically meant shadow) never strived to make her only child happy, choosing instead to glare and snap and lecture the young boy about not making a mess with his toys, however many few he had; she only ever slapped Koutarou in front of Kuroo once, then proceeded to _not_ comfort her son (the evil woman’s long nails had left red marks on his cheek), but to attempt a form of bribery towards Kuroo in hopes he wouldn’t let the news slip that she was abusing her son.

But it wasn’t like that was a secret between the towns of Fukurodani and Nekoma.

Kuroo remembered so many occasions on which he would be playing with Bokuto in his small little room, only for their play date to be interrupted by a visit from the police or social welfare; Kumori would lock her son’s door and assure the police she had nothing to hide (except for Bokuto himself.) Koutarou was always on edge in his own home, would hardly give a mere smile at something he would usually laugh his head off about, and when he did laugh on rare occasions, it was breathy, a whispered chuckle, as if the noise would trigger some form of punishment.

 _It was different before we turned seven_ , Tetsurou recalled, turning away from Kumori’s grave. _Yeah, the atmosphere was always more intense at Bokuto’s house, but I know we used to run around a lot more before my seventh birthday party. I don’t remember anything happening to change that…except one day I woke-up and Bo was different. Always looking over his shoulder, eyes darting around, cutting off his laugh when it got too loud…_

_I just wish he would tell me what’s been haunting him for all these years._

Kuroo sighed and shined the flashlight on his watch—1:32. Time to head back to the gate and start his walk over again. The black-haired young man glanced around the empty graveyard as he walked, ensuring no kid or robber was wandering around; something unusual glittered in his side vision, causing Tetsurou to look left, right where the A section of the graves began. The shimmer of light did not repeat its action, but it wasn’t needed—Kuroo’s interest was caught on one of the few headstones with fresh flowers lying at the base. His head cocked to the side curiously as he slowed his walk and approached the scene carefully, shining his flashlight around the area quickly just to make sure no one was playing a prank on him.

While Kuroo had been tending to this particular cemetery for a solid year now, he had failed to notice this headstone amongst the others, which was strange to him, because this deceased being brought out the inner curiosity in him. Some individuals had better stories than others, and Kuroo had to wonder what tragedy happened to this youngster buried in the A section of the Lovely Bones Cemetery in Tokyo.

 

_AKAASHI KEIJI_

_December 5 th 1976—October 28th 1996_

_Aged 19_

_Beloved son, student of curiosity_

 

Two bouquets of midnight blue roses had been neatly laid over the yellowing grass by the headstone, not as fresh as Kuroo had initially thought, but still pretty and thoughtful. How had he never noticed this one before? Tetsurou was interested in death, the stories of those who died, and this seemed like a good story to be told; there were many young souls who resided in this cold place, many who died tragically, others who died by their own conviction. _Akaashi Keiji_ , Kuroo repeated in his head. _He would have died a few years before Bokuto and I were born. I feel a little bad for never noticing his grave before…you’d think I would have heard stories about how he died for how dramatic and tragic teenage deaths are._

Tetsurou sighed to himself and gave a quiet prayer to whoever this young man was. Not everything was happy and shiny after death—he knew that from experience. The second reason why he decided to become a demonologist was because of his uncle, whose eerie death resulted in a flurry of hauntings that scared off a family living in his old house. No one ever believed Kuroo when he said his uncle visited him through nightmares, nightmares where he didn’t seem like the nice, cool uncle Tetsurou once knew and loved. His eyes were red, terrible, _evil_ , like Bokuto’s mother’s. At first, Kuroo thought he accidentally conjured his uncle through a board his mother didn’t know he had (which he borrowed from Bokuto), but after some of his first paranormal investigations, he figured that a different spirit had taken over his uncle’s ghostly form and had been using it to terrorize others. He hoped this poor young man hadn’t suffered the same fate. The graveyard guarder nodded in acknowledgement to the headstone, then went on his way to the main gate.

 _To think, all Bokuto’s family is in this cemetery_ , the demonologist thought. _I know he hates talking about omens, but that doesn’t sound like a good one to me._

 

Kuroo just hoped he would never have to walk by the grave of his best friend as he walked past Akaashi Keiji’s every night.

 

Hours later, when the black sky was just beginning to lighten up with late sunlight, Tetsurou’s time at the graveyard was up; his dead legs were dragging him through the colorful leaves back to the gate again, keys in hand as he finished his final round of the shift. By now his hearing was overused from paranoia, so he didn’t notice his best friend creeping up behind him, having already hurried around the entire property looking for Kuroo, who was just reaching for the keys when a rustling noise broke through his sound barrier.

Bokuto was the last person he expected to see standing not a foot behind him, bright gold eyes staring blankly.

“Jesus!” Kuroo cursed, bending over to catch his breath. “What are you trying to pull?!”

“I tried not to sneak up on you,” The grey-haired man shrugged innocently. “Sorry.”

“Well…what the hell are you doing here? It’s five in the morning!”

Koutarou didn’t reply for a moment, and Tetsurou recovered enough to look up at his friend, now noticing the white rose bouquets cradled against his broad chest—his best friend’s grip tightened on them when he finally responded.

“…I just woke-up. Couldn’t fall asleep.” He answered vaguely. “Did you have to throw anyone out tonight?”

“No,” Kuroo sighed, walking beside Bokuto as they headed to the latter’s family graves. “Just you.”

“Does it bother you when people vandalize graves? Even the graves of bad people?”

“Bo, it’s five in the morning—do we have to get so deep right away?”

“Sorry.”

Tetsurou thought he might have offended Bokuto with his morning crankiness, but Koutarou didn’t seem quite…in the moment. His mind was elsewhere, eyes staring straight ahead as the cold autumn air sent chills over their arms. Kuroo brushed it off, though took note of how much he had been tip-toeing around his bestie lately. Caring for his well being never bothered the demonologist, though his concern grew with each passing day. They walked in silence for the next few minutes, trying to run away from the chill and shield themselves from view of whatever evil eye might be watching.

“Hey—how did you get in here?” Tetsurou asked in a yawn. “The front gate has been locked all night.”

“I crawled over.”

“You’re a great influence on the kids around here, you know that?”

Bokuto smiled that fake-ass smile he did whenever he was upset about something. They were at the B section, now, and Kuroo stopped a few feet away to give his friend some privacy; Kumori and her mother’s graves sat there stiffly, grey stones cold to the touch as Koutarou ran a finger across both their names lovingly. Tokyo was starting to wake-up, but neither boy heard a thing outside the wind. Bokuto’s grandmother loved white roses, so he always brought a bouquet for her, and another full of the same flower for his mother, in hopes that the pure color would cure her harsh heart, wherever it may be (probably in hell, like Tetsurou said). The flowers sat quietly on the ground, undisturbed by the blowing leaves and bodies standing a few feet away; as much as it bothered Kuroo that Bokuto was so nice to his mother when she was nothing but abusive to him during life, he said nothing hurtful and merely watched, not wanting to disturb this relatively peaceful moment. His best friend wasn’t having too much luck these past few years, and whatever quiet he could receive, Kuroo did not want to ruin.

Bokuto nodded in approval at the pretty headstones, then turned back towards Kuroo, signaling that he was ready to leave.

The black-haired man didn’t comment as they walked towards the gate once more. He didn’t comment when Koutarou almost tripped over his own shoelace, didn’t comment when they unlocked the gates and began trekking down the sidewalks of Tokyo. He only commented when his best friend jumped at the sound of a large leaf smacking against a tin trash can.

 

“You really don’t like October, do you?”

Kuroo looked over at his best friend’s expression; it was emotionless, with the exception of his tired yellow eyes blankly staring ahead at the dark sun rising.

“No,” Bokuto whispered. “I don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On October 3rd, he asked me what day it was.  
> "...It's October 3rd."
> 
> #meangirls
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Supernatural

_Tuesday, October 9 th_

Bokuto had been living in his new apartment for a little over a week, now, and ever since the light incident things had been relatively quiet. He even had Kuroo over for dinner Sunday night, managing to laugh honestly and joke around for an hour; it was nice to be normal, something Koutarou wished for every day, so on Tuesday after class he tried very hard to act like a normal college student and work diligently on his report due for next week. While the apartment still hadn’t been cleansed by a professional exorcist, Bokuto noticed a change in atmosphere around him, one that wasn’t so threatening or spooky. His food hadn’t been dumped in the garbage again, either, which was always a plus…

 _Now if only I could get this stupid report started_ , the witch frowned.

He had been staring at his laptop for at least an hour trying to be creative enough to come up with a title and subject for his divination report; as their first project of the year, it was worth a shit ton of points, and Kuroo stressed that since Bokuto always faded in intelligence near the end of the year, he should probably gather as much brownie points during the first semester as possible. The report had to be somewhere along the lines of documenting a specific region’s affiliation with divination, their history, fate, etc. etc. Bokuto figured it was difficult for him to get started because he knew all the endings of these stories involved burning witches alive in public executions…

So far, he had four characters typed out—five, if you counted the colon.

_ Student Name: Bokuto Koutarou _

“This is too hard!” Koutarou whined to himself, shutting the laptop in frustration. “I’m taking a nap instead!”

The witch could hear his best friend advising him against that, but since Kuroo wasn’t here to physically wrestle him back to the laptop, Bokuto sprawled out on the couch and pulled his grandmother’s blanket over his body. It wasn’t hard to get comfortable, and the report was all but forgotten as he sighed deeply, mumbling the sleeping spell under his breath to induce a nice, long nap. Kuroo’s concerns echoed in his brain, and Koutarou felt a little bad about himself for ignoring those suggestions, but…no one else cared if he got his report done, right? Tetsurou was the only one who ever cared about him, besides his grandmother. That thought brought back Bokuto’s hatred for his lazy self, and a stabbing pain went through his chest right before he drifted off to sleep—

Sometimes, the young witch really wished he had more friends.

Nothing else disturbed Bokuto’s slumber for the next three hours, and that reoccurring nightmare only appeared in quick flashes for this round. The apartment complex must have simultaneously agreed to be silent, because not a single noise echoed through the hallway or pounded through the walls; there were occasional brushing noises in Koutarou’s living room, but one could argue that it was just his sleepy mumblings and Halloween-socked feet brushing over the couch fabric as they moved. It was probably the most peaceful nap the student ever had, undisturbed by calls from a worried Kuroo or texts from Suguru about annoying customers at the shop.

Koutarou subconsciously woke himself up out of the spell after those solid three-hours, and one dazed glance at the clock said it was five in the afternoon; after going a few days with no ghostly incidents, Bokuto almost didn’t realize his laptop was opened again, equipped with a yellow sticky note stuck to the keyboard. When his blurry memory informed him of the last position he left his laptop in, the student woke in a hurry, sitting up so quickly his head spun, but his golden eyes stayed locked on the computer.

Sure enough, it had been opened again, and Koutarou was shocked to see _thousands_  of words typed onto the document. Not just a few, but _thousands_.

After letting himself wake-up even more following a long moment of gaping, the witch dared to lean forward and read the letters.

_ Student Name: Bokuto Koutarou _

_ Date: October 9th, 2018 _

_ Class: History of Divination and Magic _

_ Teacher: Sensei Washijo _

_Divine Divination:_

_A history of divination in Taiwan_

“Ummm…”

Bokuto rubbed his eyes aggressively and leaned forward to scroll down, fingers shaking as they pushed the arrow down, down, down, down until they reached the end of _twelve full pages_. Twelve pages of information on divination in Taiwan! The grey-haired young man didn’t even know where Taiwan was! They had divination in Taiwan?! Interesting. But what was _more_ interesting was that Bokuto typed his name only onto the blank document before taking a nap—how had twelve pages been written before his sleeping form? Had Koutarou went into a sleeping trance and started/finished his report? That didn’t seem likely. Bokuto was even more uninspired during sleep than he was during real life.

 _Wait!_ The witch thought, turning his attention to the yellow stick note. _There’s a note! Kuroo must have snuck in and did my report for me! I knew I was right to make friends with him when we were babies._

Koutarou snatched the note and brought it up to read, face falling and rising at the same time when he scanned over the words written in elegant black writing that certainly did _not_ belong to Kuroo:

**I’m sorry.**

There were a lot of people that note could have been written by. Bokuto’s mother (that option didn’t seem likely for many reasons), his grandmother, his unknown father figure…and there was one more person Koutarou didn’t know personally who very well could have scribbled out the apology. It would be easier to guess if Bokuto knew someone who had knowledge on the subject of divination, _so_ much knowledge, in fact, that their report under Bokuto’s name would certainly impress the unimpressed Washijo when Koutarou turned it in. Was it morally wrong to use a report that a _ghost_ had written? The same ghost who stood at the window sorrowfully, the one who looked at the current owner of this apartment with tearful, blank green eyes tinted with deep blue…was it all part of the witch’s imagination? Had he actually lost his mind all those weeks ago, and was now re-inventing reality like the Joker? A ghost was leaving him notes. The same ghost probably wrote his report on divination. Was that…could that _really_ happen?

But the ever-emotionally unstable Bokuto did not want to think of the possibility, and turned on the TV so he could play a video game to distract his thoughts.

 _It’s okay!_ Koutarou lied, swallowing nervously as he turned on Mario Carts. _I just…wrote my report in my sleep because Kuroo would be upset if I didn’t at least start it! Yeah. I don’t want to disappoint Kuroo again, so I…typed it all up like a pro. Now I play Mario Carts as my reward. Yup. Nothing supernatural about that. Not at all…_

Despite his hypocritical thoughts, Bokuto was on edge while he picked out a character, body reacting differently than how his mind was. The open laptop sat on the coffee table, mocking the lazy college student with its word count; he tried ignoring everything except the TV screen, where the blue mushroom was bouncing around ready for the race to begin, but right before Koutarou could press the start button, something misty appeared in the corner of his right eyesight.

The ghost of apartment 4B had returned.

Bokuto’s fingers froze over the Wii remote, eyes drifting over to where the dark-haired young man stood in the corner of the living room, quietly leaning against the faded orange walls with a curiously blank expression. His stare was directed at Koutarou. The witch knew it, too, and out of fear turned his attention back to the TV screen, though his eyes were bulging out of their sockets at this point…there was no lying to himself anymore. The ghost was _real_. It was standing not ten-feet from Bokuto, watching him! No more excuses seemed plausible at the moment, and the student could only gulp with fear as he tried to focus on the mushroom bouncing around on the screen—

But his distraction was interrupted by a light, cool voice coming from the corner of the room.

 

“Why didn’t you write your report?”

 

If Koutarou’s mouth was already gaping, he needed a new adjective to describe how far it had fallen after hearing the ghost ask him a question. Bokuto actually forgot his fear for a moment and looked over where the spirit stood patiently, watching the witch carefully and awaiting an answer—but Bokuto could give no answer through his shock and sat there like an idiot, eyes wide, mouth open wordlessly. How does one talk to a ghost? Do you have to use code words? Do you have to give them your energy so they can understand? Why had Kuroo not mentioned any of this?!

Bokuto meant to speak, to give some kind of reply to the ghost in the corner of his living room, but twenty-five minutes passed in _total silence_ , after which Akaashi decided he couldn’t waste his ghostly hours on waiting for an intelligent response, the spirit went on the move. This alerted Koutarou back to reality, and he could only shut his mouth and wait in anxiety as the handsome young man walked towards him; the act would have seemed normal, had Akaashi’s steps not been so inhumanly graceful and his body so inhumanly see through. He sat on the other end of the couch like a regular person would, even took the other Wii remote and changed the TV back to its original setting. All the while he was flipping through channels, Bokuto was staring at him in shock, seriously wondering if he needed a mental evaluation next time he visited the doctor’s office.

The volume turned up on the TV, and Koutarou forced himself to turn forward again. The atmosphere became awkward on the living side of things as they sat on the couch quietly, watching an early episode of the show _Supernatural_ ; there was an October marathon of the first season. Kuroo was obsessed with the show, yet another reason why he became a demonologist, so Bokuto knew the basics of this episode—brothers Sam and Dean were at a barbeque for an open house talking to a saleswoman.

_“I take it you two are interested in becoming home owners?”_

_“Well…”_

_“Uh—yeah.”_

_“Well, let me just say—we accept home owners of any race, religion, color or…sexual orientation.”_

Akaashi snorted, making Bokuto flinch.

_“…Right.” Dean nodded with a pained smile. “Um…I’m gunna go talk to Larry—okay honey?”_

_Dean slapped his brother’s butt as he walked away, leaving Sam to smile awkwardly at the saleswoman._

“That joke never gets old.”

Koutarou couldn’t help but look over at the ghost next to him, and found the young-looking man staring at him as if waiting for a response. It hadn’t worked out well the first time, but Akaashi was willing to give him another chance. More silence passed before Bokuto hurriedly snatched his laptop up and opened the Internet tab, hiding his screen from the spirit’s view as he typed a stupid question into the search bar: _how to talk to ghosts_

“Just say hello.”

Bokuto flinched again, but turned his head to look at Akaashi, who stared right back at him. The witch figured he couldn’t look more idiotic than he already did, so he reluctantly set his laptop back on the coffee table and cleared his throat, hoping no neighbor of his was eavesdropping on this sure to be awkward conversation between a ghost and a human-like creature.

“H- _Hello_.” Koutarou stuttered.

“Hello,” The spirit replied smoothly, voice sultry and casual at the same time. Even though the ghost had spoken before, Bokuto was shocked again. “What’s your name?”

_My name…I know this one, I know this one!_

“B…Bokuto Koutarou.” He swallowed, nodding his head in greeting. “U-m…what…what’s…your name?”

“Akaashi Keiji. It’s nice to meet you.”

The grey-haired man couldn’t believe what was happening. He was having a conversation…with a ghost. A ghost named Akaashi Keiji. A ghost who was sitting right beside him. He was a _ghost_ , right? He wasn’t a demon or anything evil like that? One way to find out…

“You—are you…are you a _ghost_?” Bokuto asked fearfully.

“I thought that much was obvious, but yes,” Keiji nodded. Those narrowed eyes were frightening to look at, yet alluring at the same time. “I am the ghost who haunts this apartment.”

“…Prove it.”

_Prove it?!!! Why would you ask him to prove it?!!!! He’s already proved it by terrorizing you!!!_

The student couldn’t take back his request, however, and held his breath as Akaashi raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, the pages of Bokuto’s divination book began flipping wildly, and at the same time, Keiji’s form vanished into nothing; cupboards in the kitchen open and closed loudly, the sink turned on for a moment, and the curtains flowed even though the window was tightly shut. All the eerie feelings the witch felt ever since moving into this apartment were present, hovering around him and becoming familiar once more. All the while, Koutarou’s breath was held, up until Akaashi reappeared beside him on the couch, every movement fluttering to a quiet stop.

“Are my previous actions and these present ones enough evidence for you?” The spirit asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Bokuto nodded furiously.

“Now it is my turn to ask you a question, Bokuto Koutarou.”

“What…what’s your question?” He asked cautiously.

Akaashi turned his attention to the college student once more; his expression was so difficult for the other to read, the only obvious emotion being curiosity.

“Are you a witch?”

Every fiber of fear returned to Bokuto’s body, tensing his muscles in preparation for violence and harsh words—his immediate defense was to lie, and he was a terrible liar, but he still tried. His mother had always been better at lying than he was…

“N-No.” Bokuto said. “I’m not.”

“Why are you lying?” Akaashi questioned, purely out of curiosity. “I can’t tell anyone your secret if it is true, as I have witnessed…” A pause. “Are you a witch, Bokuto-san?”

Koutarou wanted to think Keiji was lying. _He_ was talking to him, so what was stopping the ghost from talking to anyone else? Despite that thought…Bokuto was presented with a new opportunity. This was an opportunity he never had before, not even with his best and only friend Kuroo—he had a chance to tell someone about his _magic_. He had a chance to tell someone about all the things he could do, the things he was remotely talented at. It was an entirely different feeling for the young witch, and his heart grabbed at the experience right away:

He hesitated only a moment before nodding his head. Akaashi echoed an earlier statement back.

“Prove it.”

Bokuto give him long, steady look, then swallowed his fear down and snapped a finger.

“Chao.”

 _Chaos_.

The pages of Koutarou’s divination book flipped faster than Akaashi’s trick had done, the sink water turned on several times, the curtains changed colors, the TV switched channels, the radio turned on, all igniting a wave of power rushing over Keiji’s invisible form. It gave him more energy as a result, and a small gasp escaped his lips when Bokuto ended the chaos abruptly, body tensing like he had been shocked when everything went quiet again. The athlete dared to look over at Akaashi’s expression, chest tight with anxiety—

His own breath was stolen away when he saw the amazed, absolutely _wonder-filled_ look covering the ghost’s pale face. Bokuto couldn’t speak or explain, couldn’t even register the fact that he had exposed himself because of how _respectfully_ Akaashi was staring at him. The witch had never seen an expression even remotely close to that being directed at him before. It almost made tears spring to his golden eyes, making him wonder why he never opened up to someone before; of course, he knew why that was, but this was such a foreign gift Bokuto didn’t know how to respond.

“You…have powerful magic,” Keiji said finally, voice littered with astonishment. “May I propose something?”

“S-Sure! Whatever you want!” Koutarou squeaked. He was ready to bow down at Akaashi’s feet for not hitting him with a broomstick, while Akaashi himself was ready to bow down at Bokuto’s feet for showing him what he had been searching for all his short life.

“Firstly, I apologize for my earlier pranks. I did not mean to cause you such distress by turning the lights off the other night.”

“That’s…okay.”

“Secondly…” Akaashi trailed off. “I don’t think it would be wise for us to be enemies. And if we aren’t going to be enemies…I think it would work out well if we tried being friends.”

_Friends? You mean…friends? Like Kuroo and I? Is it really that easy to make friends?! I could have been using my magic to get friends all these years?!!!_

“Okay!!!” Bokuto all but shouted. “Friends! Yeah! I think I’d like that—to be friends. Yeah. Let’s…try that!”

“Happy to hear it.”

“So…so…we’re just gunna be like…roommates? Who sit together and stuff? Except, like…you aren’t going to haunt me anymore, right?”

Bokuto’s heart skipped a beat when the cute ghost smiled at him and vanished into thin air dramatically. The student hurriedly looked around the room, but his new friend was nowhere to be found. He guessed it had something to do with Keiji’s energy levels and slumped back into the couch with a happy pout on his lips.

 

“Okay, you can haunt me!” Koutarou yelled to no one. “…But you’re still paying rent.”

 

_Wednesday, October 10 th_

For the first time since moving into apartment 4B, Bokuto woke-up with a smile on his face.

 

He felt a little odd while walking to the university, but the strangeness definitely had some happiness mixed within. Throughout the entire day Koutarou couldn’t wait to get home, couldn’t wait for Kuroo to get out of class so he could hurry through work and go talk to the ghost Akaashi Keiji more. Sensei Washijo was suspicious of how early Bokuto turned his report in, but looked impressed just upon scanning the title, so the witch wasn’t too worried about what kind of grade he would get; he had faith in Akaashi’s twelve pages. It had been a long time since he felt so carefree, and his classmates noticed his familiar aura bouncing around the hallways, just like old times. Kuroo noticed more than anyone, especially since Bokuto came crashing into him with a chest bump the second Tetsurou stepped out of his last class for the day—they both fell to the ground with pained laughs, the pain side of things more from Kuroo’s lips.

“What…the _hell_ , bro?”

“How are you, Kuroo?!” Bokuto yelled, crawling to lie on Kuroo’s chest.

“Right now? In pain.”

“Sorry!”

Koutarou was still giggling as he heaved Tetsurou onto his feet, expression goofy as his friend recovered and began studying Bokuto’s demeanor.

“…How are _you_ doing?”

“I’m great! I finished my report already, so I’m free for the entire week!”

“Don’t fuck with me, Bo—you haven’t even started it, have you?” Kuroo asked as they began to walk through the crowded hall.

“I’m not lying, Kuroo, I really finished it!” Koutarou shouted, shoving his flashdrive into the other’s face. “It’s right here on this drive if you wanna read about divination in Taiwan.”

“Did you honestly think I would beli—Taiwan has divination?”

“Mhm!”

“Huh. Who would’ve thought?”

Kuroo gave his bestie side looks as the other bounced around beside him, even starting to skip when they made it outside to the grounds. Other students were staring with weariness, and since Tetsurou didn’t want them to accuse Bokuto of witchcraft, he pulled on the owl’s jacket sleeve and tugged him down to earth.

“Not that I’m upset over your happiness, but you need to calm down, Bokuto.”

“Sorry, I just can’t help myself!” The shorter one replied with a grin. He stopped his skipping and settled for whistling instead. “Don’t you ever just feel so _happy_ to be alive?”

“Sometimes,” Kuroo shrugged. “But then I remember I’m related to Suguru and it makes me a little less happy.”

“Haha! Good one!”

Now the thicker boy was starting to sound a little crazy. Usually when Tetsurou made a joke on his step-brother’s expense the owlish man would say he should be thankful for his sibling—now he was laughing along with Kuroo? Something had to be wrong. Maybe he’d gone totally crazy. Maybe the stress of moving again was too much. But the longer Kuroo stared at his best friend, the more he saw a genuine cheerfulness surrounding his bounding figure; it was possible that Koutarou had found happiness, but…it was just odd because Tetsurou didn’t remember doing anything especially nice to him throughout the week.

“You have work tonight?”

“Yeah, but just three to seven.”

“Wanna have dinner before I head off to the graveyard shift?”

“Um… _actually_ ,” Bokuto trailed off, biting his lip. “Can we do that tomorrow night?”

Kuroo stopped in his tracks to turn his cat eyes onto Koutarou, who he stared at for a long moment before replying.

“Why?” He questioned suspiciously. “You got a date or something? Planning on having a little rendezvous with your old porno roomies?”

“N-No!” Bokuto screeched with panic. _Although Akaashi is pretty cute…_ “I just don’t feel like it tonight, okay?”

“What’s his name? Is it a she? Do you have class with them?”

“I’m not going on a date!”

“Fine, fine!” Kuroo relented with a grin. “I believe you…but just in case…you want me to bring some condoms by?”

“I have to leave!” Koutarou announced, turning away from his cackling friend. “I’m gunna be late for work, and Suguru will be mad!”

“You tell me if that scale-covered bastard gives you any trouble, Bo!!!”

The divination student waved in agreement as he ran off into Tokyo traffic, Kuroo’s gaze following him until his bulky shape disappeared down the street. Bokuto always had mood swings, but this random transfer from energetic to a stuttering mess concerned Tetsurou. Truthfully, he didn’t actually think Bokuto had a date to attend, as the young man had never really been interested in romantic relationships ever since Kuroo could remember, but what else was there for him to be ‘busy’ over? He (supposedly) had finished his report already, he had been moved in for a week, now, gotten all his possessions organized…was he painting the living room, maybe? You’d think he would recruit Kuroo for such back-breaking work. Maybe he hired a prostitute? Kuroo shook that thought away immediately. Bokuto could hardly flirt with a teenage girl, much less give money to someone so they would have sex with him. It could have just been that Koutarou needed some alone time—while Tetsurou was sometimes reluctant to give his best friend that kind of isolated space, as long as he kept an eye on Koutarou, everything would probably turn out okay.

Probably.

 

 _Well…whatever it is_ , Kuroo thought, turning away quietly. _I hope it works out for him._

 

Bokuto arrived to work on time, slipping into the shop _Ghoulish_ just as Suguru was bringing the last of the Halloween decorations out to hang. _Ghoulish_ was one of the many little shops on the left side of the road a couple blocks down from the university; Kuroo’s step father had owned it for many years and passed its ownership down to Daishou, his only child before marrying into Kuroo’s family. Their specialty items included nazars charms, rabbit feet (which really freaked Bokuto out), four leaf clover plants, horseshoes, amulets, etc. etc. What Koutarou liked about this shop was that its contents weren’t directly related to keeping away magic and magical beings—in order to buy these charms, you had to have had some kind of supernatural experience or superstitions, which essentially meant you believed in magic, because you were purchasing an item meant to steer away _evil_ magic. Kuroo told Bokuto that Suguru’s father created the store for both magic users and magic fearers alike, hoping their similarities would force the Tokyo society to see that most forms of magic were not to be feared.

If Koutarou was going to get a job, it would be at a place where magic was spoken with some type of indifference. Now if only Suguru wasn’t the boss…

“Good afternoon, Bokuto.” The great snake himself greeted. “How are you today?”

“I’m good.”

“ _Well_.”

“I’m well,” The witch rephrased while holding back an eye-roll. “How are you, Suguru?”

“Fine, fine…had to chase some creepy little kids out of the back alley, but other than that it’s been a slow day.” Daishou explained. He was flipping that pure silver coin through his fingers again… “Business usually picks up the second week of October, so I wouldn’t worry about a thing.”

 _Wasn’t going to_ , Bokuto thought, sliding past the snake into the back room. He hung his coat up and quickly returned to the main shop area, glancing around at all the charms and dark décor; despite the almost haunting aura of _Ghoulish_ , they were actually quite popular amongst each generation for different reasons. Suguru’s father was quite popular with the older generation, who frequently bought the nazars amulets to ward off the evil eye, and Suguru himself was well known around the community for his (fake) charisma and charm, and for his extensive knowledge on sacred objects and pendants. Even Kuroo wouldn’t deny that the little snake knew what he was talking about when it came to repelling evil, though he always joked that the entire shop should have kept Daishou out himself, due to his evil nature. _Ghoulish_ was a small store with dark purple walls, green lettering designed with smoke letters, one register in the back left corner, several stations of different themed charms, along with amulets and other evil repellant objects hanging on three walls, the final wall behind the register reserved for potions. The Halloween counter had already been organized and propped up near the front door, per Suguru’s orders.

“Here’s the ladder,” Suguru announced, pushing a folded-up ladder towards Koutarou as he scanned the room. “I think I want those spider web decorations in each corner of the store. Okay?”

 

What was there to say about Daishou Suguru?

 

Kuroo would argue that he wasn’t a person at all, more of a basilisk born from some kind of mutated genes that had to do with his serpent mother who abandoned the family when Suguru was seven-years-old to be some older business man’s whore every other week. He attended Nohebi high school and was Kuroo’s main volleyball rival, a rivalry strengthened when Tetsurou’s mother invited her new boyfriend and his son over for dinner during their second year. Suguru didn’t attend college after graduating, choosing instead to take over the family shop so his dad could retire and live happily ever after with Kuroo’s mother (although through their hatred they couldn’t deny that their parents were good for each other), making him far richer than Bokuto and his step brother combined. Daishou was a twenty-year-old with a narrow build, standing a bit shorter than Tetsurou at 5’10 and less muscle mass at 146 pounds; much to Kuroo’s credit of calling him a snake, Suguru’s facial features were thin and pointed, eyebrows short and deep green eyes slitted, slanting outwards like an evil reptile. Aside from his face, Daishou resembled his father, keeping his dark hair swept to the left side in a neat pattern, although a few strands from his bangs sometimes fell over his pale forehead. As far as personality goes, Bokuto thought Suguru was rather unpleasant. He always stuck his tongue out whenever something went in his favor, and his skills in manipulation were uncanny, which made him a good salesperson. Daishou was faker than the potions he sold to little old ladies, always apologizing excessively as an underhand tactic in marketing—he was a sick, competitive person, and Bokuto never wanted to be on his bad side. Kuroo was on the top of that list, and sitting between the two was like being jammed between a poisonous snake and a feral alley cat.

In simple terms, Suguru was one of a kind.

Koutarou mostly kept to himself when working at _Ghoulish_ , offering help when picking out charms occasionally and sneaking a couple spells in here and there on particular amulets that wouldn’t do a damn thing to help against the evil eye—unfortunately, today was another one of those occasions. An old woman who used to teach divination at Tokyo Terror University came bustling in, immediately rushing back to where Bokuto was adding the final Halloween touches to the register; she was almost at the point of hysteria and violently pointed at a purple potion to Koutarou’s right.

“Please,” The woman said. “Please sell me that potion.”

“Of course,” Bokuto nodded, gently taking the glass bottle off its rack. “This one? Auferat malum?” _Evil away_.

“Yes, yes, to keep evil spirits out!”

“Right…”

Koutarou didn’t really want to bring attention to himself as he rang up the potion, but he hoped his distraction would ease the old woman’s nerves a bit; her hands were shaking against the register desk so much the entire object was starting to tremble.

“…Do you remember me, Mrs. Shibayama?” He asked quietly, getting her attention. “I’m Bokuto—Kuroo Tetsurou’s friend? You gave a lecture to my class about divination last year?”

“Oh yes, Bokuto-kun!!!” She cried, a smile lighting up her features as she handed over the money. “You’re Kuroo’s friend! My grandson Yuki goes to Nekoma now, just like Kuroo did! Ah, he was such a wonderful volleyball player, and you, too, you were quite talented as well!”

“Thank you,” Bokuto chuckled, wrapping the potion in a few layers of tissue before slipping it into a black bag. “Well, um…Kuroo—he’s studying to be a demonologist, now, so…if you need help with your _evil spirit_ problem, he might be able to help you out. I can give you his number, if you’d like.”

The witch was trying to be discrete about this conversation, as Suguru was only a few feet away counting stock on the Halloween rack. Mrs. Shibayama’s face fell at the mention of demons, her anxious demeanor reminding Koutarou of her grandson’s; Bokuto wasn’t a brain surgeon by any means, but he could tell the difference between real and fake potions. Since Daishou was cheap and probably didn’t believe in good magic, he most likely bought the stuff they carried from some false prophet in Russia or something…Bokuto didn’t like selling broken objects, and this was no exception. When he went to reach for a rubber band that would keep the bag on the potion, the witch slipped the potion behind the counter with it.

_Tempus carceris._

_Temporary guard._

Koutarou wasn’t sure how powerful his magic was anymore, but since he saw a quick glow from inside the bag, he figured something had been done to help the poor woman.

“Here you go,” Bokuto smiled, handing Mrs. Shibayama the potion. “I hope you have luck getting rid of that spirit.”

“Oh, there are no spirits within my home, Bokuto-kun.” She replied seriously. “This potion is for the store.”

“O-Oh?”

Mrs. Shibayama began to back away, heading towards the door while taking the potion out of the bag. Suguru was watching now, eyes narrowing even more than usual.

“I have seen a great trouble lurking in the future of Ghoulish…a very, very bad spirit taking over…and this should help prevent the problem.”

“Hey, don’t—!”

Daishou’s cry was ignored, and Mrs. Shibayama poured the potion in the doorway of the shop, smoke filling the air and burning Bokuto’s eyes with great force. The purple substance covered everything like fog, preventing anyone from seeing more than a few inches in front of their face—using what little magic Koutarou knew, he coughed a spell under his breath and watched as the purple cloud brushed to the sides of the store, allowing him to see Suguru coughing on the other side. Mrs. Shibayama was gone, the front door bell jingling as she took her leave, allowing the potion to do its work; after a few minutes of curses from Suguru, the purple air finally cleared away enough for them to breathe, leaving behind a burning sensation that continued to affect Bokuto, though he knew he was not a demon (unless Kuroo had somehow brought one home with him…). Thankfully, no other customers were in the store, and the only thing left of the incident was the top of the potion bottle which Mrs. Shibayama had dropped.

“These stupid old bags and their superstitions!” Suguru hissed, even though that insult was how he earned a living. “Is anything ruined?! Is anything purple?!”

“Everything’s fine,” Bokuto coughed. “Just…dusty.”

“She’s _lucky_ everything’s fine! I could sue her for—for— _something_!”

“Calm down,” Koutarou said, thinking the phrase ironic. _He_ was telling someone to calm down? “Nothing is broken or anything, so let’s just…forget about it.”

“Damnit, my eyes burn!” Suguru whined again, rubbing at his eyelids while stumbling over to where Bokuto was. “What the hell kind of potion did she buy, anyway?”

“Evil away. To keep evil spirits away, I think.”

“Crazy old bat…pouring dangerous liquids on the floor of my shop…October sure is a hell of a month.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto nodded blankly, watching as the last of the purple smoke vanished behind Suguru. “…It sure is.”

~~~-~~~

Closing came soon enough, and both Daishou and Bokuto checked the locked door before heading their separate ways, trying to forget the potion incident from earlier. The _witch_ was trying to forget, at least…it was always an extreme risk to do magic inside Suguru’s shop, but sometimes Koutarou couldn’t help it. Repressed talents always become habits, but it was dangerous for him to decide to perform these habits near someone as nosy as the snake who owned _Ghoulish_.

“Have a safe night, Bokuto.” Suguru smiled as they turned away from the shop.

_What does it mean when he smiles like that?_

“Yeah. You too.”

Daishou gave one last wave and coolly strode down the sidewalk under the dark night sky—there was no denying that Kuroo’s step brother was a little… _off_. He always acted like he knew something you didn’t, but Bokuto couldn’t ponder on those thoughts tonight. For the first time in his life, someone was at home waiting for him, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to disappoint them by getting home late.

Bokuto hurried back to his apartment in almost a jogging pace the entire time, dropping his keys several times and disturbing the silence of the complex; when he finally managed to get inside, Akaashi wasn’t anywhere to be found. Not that Koutarou expected him to have dinner cooked and ready on the table, but…it would have been nice. The quick-to-assume witch was just about wilting when that familiar cool voice drifted out from the hallway, although Akaashi the ghost was standing in the corner of the kitchen watching Bokuto carefully.

“Hello, Bokuto-san.”

“H-Hey hey hey!” The other man replied excitedly. “You’re still here!”

“…Is that a question?”

“Well, no, just an observation,” Bokuto shrugged, throwing his jacket onto the table. “So…um…umm…how—how are you, Akaashi?”

“Fine,” The black-haired man nodded. “And you?”

“Great! How are you?”

Koutarou cursed under his breath when he realized he already asked that. His excited eyes lingered on Akaashi’s faint frame, taking note of the plain navy blue t-shirt he wore and a pair of light grey sweatpants; he also had socks on, which was amusing to Bokuto, because he didn’t think ghosts get cold feet. The pair sat in silence for a moment, the living disappointed in the lack of conversation—he thought having a roommate was supposed to be fun and loud. At least that’s what Kuroo told him…but what did Kuroo know? He didn’t have any friends! At least Akaashi was a cute ghost. Sure, the bloody incident at the window hadn’t been pretty, but in his normal ghostly state, Keiji was a looker. Bokuto had never been attracted to someone before, and it seemed unfair to him that the one individual he thought attractive was already dead.

“Why are you on edge, Bokuto-san?”

“Huh?”

“I can sense your real emotions,” Akaashi said, mostly to himself. “They’re…tense. Are you nervous about something?”

“I’m always nervous about something,” Bokuto admitted before he could stop himself.

The ghost hummed, staring at Koutarou as if he wanted him to explain further, to dive into the deepest depths of his dark childhood. Before they got into that, there were many questions _Bokuto_ wanted to ask—his new roommate was a ghost, after all…however painful it might be to talk about, the witch wanted to know more about why Akaashi was haunting this apartment. Why did he stay here? How had he died? Why did he want to be friends with the new tenant instead of harassing him?

“This is gunna sound weird, but…can we like…talk?” The student asked hesitantly. “Like…on the couch or something?”

“If it is your wish.”

_That was easy…_

Bokuto squeaked and hurried over to the living room, though he was beaten by the spirit who had already taken a seat on the right side of the couch, back casually leaned against the cushion; Bokuto took a second to really _look_ at Keiji, taking note of his handsome features, the rounded jaw, the pokable nose, up to the narrowed blue eyes and dark, messy hair. The ghost was joined by the witch a moment later, who observed Akaashi for a second before clearing his throat.

“So,” He started plainly. “You’re a ghost. You’ve been living here for how many years, exactly?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Cool! I just turned twenty in September, and my friend Kuroo, who you probably saw helping me move in, he’s twenty, too.”

“I remember,” Akaashi huffed a little. “He teased you about your old neighbors.”

That was _not_ a conversation subject Bokuto was comfortable with, so he quickly switched things around and got right to the point.

“Um…can you tell me…why do you stay here, Akaasheee?”

 _Akaasheee?_ The ghost repeated in confusion.

“I used to live here when I was attending college,” Keiji informed him. “Back in 1996.”

“Wowww…so…how do I say this nicely…”

“How did I die?” Akaashi smiled weakly. Bokuto nodded slowly as the other thought for a moment, wondering what the easiest way to tell this story was. “…I was walking home from the library a few blocks down; I was distracted while walking on the crosswalk, and a car struck me.”

“Oh, I’m…I’m sorry!” Koutarou apologized sincerely. “It wasn’t the Crow’s Nest library, was it?”

The ghost nodded, much to Bokuto’s hysteria. That was the same library he visited, the same one he had been sleeping in for half the night—to think, a boy had _died_ on the crosswalk Bokuto skipped across every night…

“I’m at peace with my death, Bokuto-san, so you mustn’t worry,” Keiji said, capturing his attention once more. “It was long ago. And my own fault, really…if I hadn’t been distracted, I would have seen that the walk light had turned red.”

“Well, it was probably a good distraction! Were you reading a book? You seem super smart, I bet you were reading a really great book and got distracted by it—right?”

_Jeez, I hope that didn’t sound like flirting!_

“Hmm…not exactly.”

The memories never faded for Akaashi, just like they never faded for Bokuto. Every detail about that long moment was clear. Every speck of snow, every cold rush of air, every impact and every breath…the sparkles of the hypnotist store, the glimmering of each glass ball as the snow reflected off their shine, hinting at blurry futuristic images. Keiji didn’t know if the store was still there, but even if it had been knocked down, he would remember its beauty for as long as he wandered this lonely earth. The pain, too, he could remember intently.

“Everyone was upset because snow had fallen a few days before Halloween night,” Akaashi explained, an almost fond smile on his lips. Why was it so easy to tell this story? “I was looking at the window of a hypnotist store and had almost come to a stop in the crosswalk because I was so intrigued…well—the walk light turned red, I was still standing there, the roads were icy with snow, and…”

“A car hit you.” Bokuto finished quietly.

Akaashi nodded with a soft sigh.

“Snow was the last thing I remember seeing. It was falling again, but not in violent storms like the weatherman predicted. It was gentle, slow…I think it was a rather peaceful ending for my short life. Don’t you think so?”

Bokuto could only nod in response, becoming a bit emotional over the sad story of Akaashi Keiji. He felt horrible for complaining about his life when someone so intelligent and promising experienced such tragedy…it was just like his mother always said: the good died young, and the evil like Koutarou lived forever.

“How old were you? When you died, I mean.”

“Nineteen. My twentieth birthday would have been in December.”

“What did you study at college?” Koutarou asked, desperate for a change of subject. Now that he knew of Akaashi’s past, he really didn’t want to get into all the emotional turmoil, as he thought it would cause his friend severe pain, even though Keiji was technically a ghost.

“Hmm…I suppose you could call it _magic_.” The spirit said with a smile. “I studied magical beings, their origins, their purposes…stuff like that.”

“Where did you go to school?” Bokuto asked with a frown. “From all my experiences you can’t even find _books_ on magic anymore. At least not in Japan.”

“Tokyo Terror University,” Akaashi answered, his eyebrows also turning downwards. “…What do you mean by that?”

“By what?”

“What you just said: about…not being able to find books on magic.”

It was Bokuto’s turn to give Keiji a dumbfounded expression. Then again, how could a ghost know about the current prejudice acts against those who had some sort of magic within their blood? They didn’t get the newspaper, didn’t go out and socialize, didn’t have a cell phone with news updates…Akaashi probably had no idea of the hatred against witches like Koutarou. Would it be a bad thing to tell him? The ghost had been so nice to Bokuto so far…truthfully, if Bokuto knew giving out this information would change his new friend’s opinion of him, he probably wouldn’t inform him. Unfortunately, Koutarou’s skills in divination weren’t very strong, despite his magical abilities, so his knowledge on the future was hazy.

_Guess I’ll find out soon enough. It’s not like I haven’t been rejected before._

“Well, um…since, like, the middle to late nineties…magic and all their users have kinda been… _repressed_.” Bokuto explained as gently as possible. There wasn’t really a nice way of saying this, though. “I guess there were some incidents that made everyone scared of magic and witches and whatnot, and the public’s reaction to magical beings has been pretty negative.”

Akaashi was hanging onto his every word, eyes stern, but not without sadness.

“I guess incidents like yours, where supposedly magical beings were the ones behind deaths and accidents. It’s been that way ever since I was born, so I guess you probably wouldn’t—”

“…So…you’re saying…” The spirit interrupted. “Witches and other magic users are in _hiding_?”

“Exactly. You, um…you haven’t… _heard_ anything about that?”

Keiji couldn’t even go so far as to shake his head. Magic was _gone_? Witches were in _hiding_? That couldn’t be right. Maybe Bokuto was mixing up his opinion and fact. Why would anyone be afraid of magic? Magic was beautiful! Akaashi studied it at school, discussed it with his peers, sought out magic users to get the real ideas…and now Bokuto, a witch himself, was telling him that magic was oppressed? And…this knowledge had been invisible to Keiji for the past twenty-two _years_. All this time he was at peace with the world, when in reality, Tokyo was destroying his true passion one witch at a time? That was why Bokuto always kept the curtains closed. That was why he hesitated to use magic. Because if he did and someone saw…he…he would be persecuted.

 

Death had been painful, but Akaashi was certain this feeling felt much, _much_ worse.

 

“If—If it makes you feel any better, Akaashi,” Bokuto said hurriedly, reaching towards the ghost. “My magic has been repressed for so long that I can’t really use it in powerful amounts anymore!”

“Why would that make me feel better?” Keiji accidentally snapped, cold air bursting through the room.

“I…I don’t know, cause…cause maybe you’re angry at magical beings for inavertedly causing your death?”

A few lights began to flicker on and off, alarming the young witch.

“I love magic,” The ghost said brokenly. “I love magic…why would I rejoice over their persecution?”

Bokuto nearly jumped out of his skin when the lightbulb in the kitchen light shattered, taking the light with it and adding to the horror of an outlandish energy circling the apartment like a wild spirit breaking from its shell. Gusts of air forced every hair on Koutarou’s arms and neck to rise, disturbing the curtains like a wind storm from hell; it was similar to every horror movie Bokuto remembered watching, and he could only curl himself up in a protective position on the couch and pray for everything to go away. Bad things always do, eventually, although that ‘eventually’ usually takes its time when it comes to Bokuto.

This time, however, Akaashi was able to reel in his energy quickly, stopping the non-broken lights from flickering and taking his aura back. The apartment went deadly silent once more, but Koutarou didn’t hear anything until Keiji cleared his throat and apologized.

“I’m sorry,” He said lowly. “As a ghost…my emotions get the best me.”

_It’s okay…Mom’s not here…Akaashi’s just playing tricks on me, that’s all. Yeah. Tricks aren’t as good as treats, but sometimes they’re funny…it’s okay…_

Bokuto slowly straightened himself up out of the fetal position, hesitance clear as he dared to glance up at his ghostly friend; their eyes met immediately, Akaashi’s full of honest sympathy and regret for his behavior. The young witch understood his anger, though, and didn’t feel any dislike towards Keiji.

“That’s okay!” Bokuto replied. “Kuroo says I’m a pretty emotional person, too, and you’ve probably already witnessed my weird behavior a lot…but that’s a good thing, right? That means we have stuff in common as roommates!”

“Roommates,” Akaashi repeated, as if the term were new to him. “…I suppose we are roommates, now.”

Koutarou nodded happily at this information, beyond pleased at his new friend. Kuroo might have some competition for the first time in their relationship…so far, Akaashi was much better mannered than Tetsurou, funnier than him, too, and who knows what other talents the spirit had up his sleeve? He finished an entire report in a span of a three-hour nap! Anyone that intelligent had to be good for Bokuto’s health. Pushing aside the dramatic incident, the witch changed the subject again, knowing Keiji had more than enough time when Koutarou was at work to think over the devastating news about magical beings.

“Hey, thanks for doing my report the other day! That was super awesome of you!!!”

“Well, I could see that you were getting nowhere, and I didn’t want you to fail so early in the semester…”

“My teacher is going to think I’m super smart, just like you!” Bokuto complimented. He was unaware that his words could be classified as ‘kissing ass,’ rather just stuck under the impression that helping Akaashi’s spirit along would solidify their friendship. “You must have been at the top of your class, huh?”

“For the few months I was at the university, yes.” Keiji shrugged, still recovering. “You must be intelligent as well, Bokuto-san, majoring in such a difficult study.”

“…Welllll…I wouldn’t say intelligent. More along the lines of…inventive!”

“Divination is not a subject for the weak-minded. No magical career is.”

“Probably explains why there are so little of us witches, huh?” Koutarou joked half-heartedly.

Akaashi was still caught-up in the witch’s latest announcement, and his first reaction was to fight against whoever the hell wanted magic gone from this world. He sat up straighter, exposing more of his narrow, athletic build.

“Bokuto-san,” He began with the most excitement Bokuto had seen from him. “Why do you not practice magic in secrecy?”

“U-Um, well, I-I…my…my mom never encouraged that sort of thing,” The young man said nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Akaashi had noticed this before, but Koutarou’s fear for his supposedly deceased mother was unnerving. “I only use spells to clean because I’m lazy!”

“I see.”

Bokuto looked away and fiddled with his fingers like a jittery child, which was how the ghost imagined him from the very beginning, but the thought that the college student still portrayed many childish habits was a serious sign of abuse, triggering an immature reaction to fear and pain. It made the scene sorrowful to Akaashi. Never the less, he was hoping to pull a brave reaction from Koutarou with his next words.

“Well…if _I_ ever had the honor of being a witch during my lifetime, I would definitely be opposed to living in secret.” Akaashi said to himself, though he saw Bokuto listening. “I would practice for spite, but mostly for myself. Fear is the only form evil feeds off, and I most definitely would not want to become evil.”

The witch didn’t look up from his fumbling fingers, but Akaashi didn’t expect him to. A lot had been spoken this night, much information exchanged between living and dead, and Keiji’s energy was beginning to drain, not used to such activity and emotional turmoil. Bokuto must have known this, because he finally looked up and at Akaashi again, hurrying along the conversation as if he would never see the ghost again.

“You aren’t going to follow me into the shower again, are you? Roommates don’t do that to each other!”

“No, I won’t follow you into the shower again.”

“So you _do_ admit that you were in my shower with me the other day?! While I was NAKED?!!!”

“Please don’t shout. The neighbors don’t like loud noises.”

Bokuto pouted to himself, and the sight was adorable enough for Akaashi to let a sly smile slip out. His new roommate really was something else. Much more pleasant than the drug addicts and prostitute…

“…Were you, at least… _impressed_ with what you saw?”

“I didn’t see much.”

“ _Akaasheee_!” Koutarou whined, covering his blushing face up. “Are all ghosts this mean?!”

“No. Some of us prefer to drag people out of their beds in the middle of the darkest night.” Keiji replied smoothly, getting another wail from the witch. “I think I’ve been quite harmlessly funny, actually.”

“Well you haven’t! And I’ve only been scared because I’m under a lot of stress at this time of the year!”

“Maybe you should get some rest, then.” Akaashi said mildly.

“Maybe I will!” Bokuto replied, crossing his arms. His demeanor returned to sulky owl a second later as he looked at the ghost with big golden eyes. “But…you won’t, like… _leave_ or anything…right?”

“If you do not wish me to go, I will stay.”

_Not like I have a choice, anyway…_

“Okay. Good,” The other nodded, more to comfort himself than Akaashi. “Well, I guess I’ll…get to bed, then. Um…we can do this again sometime, right? Caus’ I really enjoyed talking with you, Akaashi!”

Keiji could no longer ignore the flattery lighting up his aura; no one had ever spoken to him like Bokuto was. No one ever wanted him around. No one requested his presence like this lonely witch. That was all spirits ever wanted, and somehow, this owlish man was giving Akaashi just that.

“…Yes,” Keiji confirmed. “I would enjoy your company again, Bokuto-san.”

The smile stretching across Bokuto’s lips was foreign to Akaashi, who stared at the sight for a long moment before regaining his composure, speaking as the other rose to walk away.

“May I suggest one more thing to improve your natural energy mood?”

“Sure! I’m always in need of more energy!”

“Practice some of the magic you used to perform,” The ghost said. “If not for your health, then for my benefit as a student of magic.”

Bokuto didn’t reply to that remark with words, but Akaashi felt the effect. He rose silently from the aged couch, facing the student as he bid him farewell for the night.

“I promise not to harass you as you sleep, Bokuto-san. Have a good night.”

“Um, Akaashi!” Koutarou said loudly, preventing the ghost from disappearing. “Will…will I see you tomorrow? Before I go to work?”

 _Why does he look so hopeful?_ Keiji wondered in pure confusion. _Hope almost has an entirely different meaning on him._

“…If it is your wish.” Akaashi repeated quietly.

“Great! Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Akaashee! Goodnight, don’t let the demons bite!”

“Goodnight, Bokuto-san.”

 

The ghost who previously haunted apartment 4B, now a roommate of the current tenant, disappeared into thin air, leaving Bokuto to stand there with a bright smile on his face as night overcame the room.

 

Koutarou headed to his bedroom shortly after, not bothering to shower even though it was still early; Kuroo had texted him while he was talking with Akaashi, and Bokuto quickly replied while plopping onto his bed.

 **_Kitty kat kuroo_ ** _: yo hoe, where u at_

 **_Kitty kat kuroo_ ** _: the graveyard is dead tonight_

 **_Kitty kat kuroo_ ** _: get it? Dead?_

The witch snorted at the horrible joke and typed back.

 **_Bookuto_ ** _: dont speak ill of the dead_

 **_Kitty kat kuroo_ ** _: all the sudden ur interested in dead people? That’s a weird kink to have…_

 **_Bookuto_ ** _: shudnt u be guarding or something? Do ur job, the kids need new shoes for school_

 **_Kitty kat kuroo_ ** _: just thought I’d check in…hows the apartment treating u?_

Bokuto bit his lip, quickly deciding against telling Kuroo all about Akaashi, the ghost friend he made after a few embarrassing incidents involving a naked witch and darkness. Kuroo hated scary movies, so he wouldn’t take Koutarou seriously—he probably wouldn’t take him serious, anyway, and if he did, Bokuto might be in the nuthouse by next week.

 **_Bookuto_ ** _: its great! Way cooler than my last one._

 **_Kitty kat kuroo_ ** _: glad to hear it. Gtg, grave robbing bastards on the loose_

 **_Kitty kat kuroo_ ** _: ill get u my pretty, and ur little dog too_

 **_Bookuto_ ** _: kick some graveyard ass, bro_

Koutarou set his phone to the side and stared up at the ceiling, letting himself think freely for a quiet moment; Akaashi’s presence was gone for the night (probably), and for the first time, Bokuto felt like summoning the ghost back again so he wouldn’t feel lonely. He did have his stuffed animal owl Boo, of course, but it was really nice to actually _talk_ to someone outside of Kuroo. His classmates thought he was a freak, his teacher hated him, he didn’t play volleyball anymore…it was difficult for witches to find friends these days. Now with Akaashi gone, Bokuto missed him. People who had knowledge on making friends would say that the ghost’s outburst of anger was a bad characteristic, maybe even an evil characteristic, but Koutarou knew not of what was good for him, only of what Kuroo had taught him. His best friend wasn’t perfect, either, so judgement never came to the divination student’s mind. Luckily for him, Akaashi was not an evil entity who would prey on Bokuto’s blindness and innocence.

“Mom never wanted me to have friends…”

Bokuto sat up stiffly, furiously nibbling at his lip again. Something was itching at the back of his mind, daring him to do something dangerous, suggesting the thought every waking minute. Akaashi wanted him to practice magic again. And…wasn’t Koutarou interested to see how far his magical abilities had been repressed over the years? That was certainly something to think about. Maybe he could get Keiji to sue his mother from beyond the grave for damaging him in such a state…

With a determined, but nervous aura, Bokuto slid off his bed and got onto his knees, reaching underneath the mattress for the chest that contained much of his childhood belongings. Amongst these belongings were spell books, books on types of magic, books on anything that had to do with the paranormal world and its cosmic energies. Koutarou could feel sparks zipping up his arm as he reached inside the chest, hand grasping the familiar stem of a gem-studded magic book he studied as a child. His heart was afraid, but Akaashi’s wisdom on fear pushed him forward. After one final moment of hesitation, Bokuto brought the metallic purple book out and read the cover for the first time in over seven years.

 

_THE BOOK OF SPELLS_

 

_“If I catch you with this ever again, it’ll be a week in the closet for you!”_

_“What are you reading? If I find you with that evil book again, I swear—”_

_“Those books are demonic, Bokuto, and I will not allow them in my house!”_

“Sorry, Mom,” Koutarou apologized with a deep breath, crawling back onto the bed and opening the glowing book. “But this is _my_ house, now.”

The young witch exhaled again, opening the book to a familiar page, the ones he used to read as a child. He read the first word naturally, combining all his energy to focus on their meaning.

“Color mutatio.”

_Color change._

Bokuto excitedly looked around his room, only to find that nothing had changed color. With a frown, he tried again, words more firm and determined this time around. A jolt of energy shot through his magical veins.

“Color mutatio!”

_Puff!_

Despite having performed this spell years ago, Koutarou was shocked at the result, staring in absolute awe as the colors of his bedroom walls began to change from one color to the next in a never-ending rainbow. The colors glided from green to orange to blue to pink, creating a happy atmosphere inside his bedroom, one he never wanted to be rid of. Bokuto laughed out loud with joy, covering his mouth in disbelief as the colors bounced around him, reflecting off the gold of his wide eyes—in a rush of air, the color show ended too soon, drifting back to a plain orange on account of the momentarily powerful magic. The witch wasn’t even upset at the result.

 _I can DO it,_ Bokuto realized _. I can do magic._

If any other ghost happened to stumble in on apartment 4B during the night of October 10th, they would have been shocked to see hundreds of magical spells being spit out by a young college student with wild hair and even wilder eyes. Books were opened and sitting all around him on the bed, taking their turn gifting him with previous knowledge that resulted in a wonderful night of sparkles, changes and memories. Koutarou remembered why he loved magic so much. With it, he didn’t feel that dragging loneliness anymore. He felt important, strong, like he had a million firefly friends surrounding him—it was as if he was transformed into a child once more, only this time, Bokuto didn’t have to live in fear of being caught. Most of his spells didn’t last long, his abilities having been dormant for so long, but he could _do_ it. The magic was still there. He could show Akaashi and prove to him that witches weren’t evil. He could show Kuroo and finally explain all the mood swings he had over the years. Most important of all…Bokuto could finally tell himself that he was right, and his sadistic, cruel mother was wrong.

 

 _Magic doesn’t create evil,_ he thought _. Fear does._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it snowed here...in October...and i'm sickened...I love you snow, but not 8 months out of the year...  
> Thanks for reading! Much more drama and sympathy for my baby Bo to come. It took me all of September to write the first three chapters of this fic and now I'm only on 6 (twitches*) so if I get behind blame the government


	4. Twitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did anyone notice the way I spelled thousands last chapter? THOUSANDTHS can u tell I don't edit that much?

_Saturday, October 13 th_

To say Akaashi was devastated would be an understatement.

 

Controlling his pent-up energy had never been this difficult before, torn between watching Bokuto finally fall asleep after hours of practicing magic with no knowledge that Akaashi was watching him with invisible tears rolling down his cheeks. Ghosts couldn’t cry, but their aura stood more vulnerable in the dead state of being a ghost—Keiji couldn’t find the power in him to alter the sorrowful, tragic feelings that overcame even the saddest of days when he thought of his family. Magic was _banned_. Witches were hunted just like in the fucking _dark ages_. What kind of world surrounded Akaashi in the afterlife? Wasn’t everything supposed to be peaceful? Why did the demons have to take their anger out on someone like Bokuto? Why did they have to cage his energy, his sunlight like he was some kind of feral animal? Keiji couldn’t understand it, and so, stood in the corner of Koutarou’s room throughout the entire night, because one should never be alone when suffering through a sickness of terrible news.

Seeing the witch freely practice simple magic blew Akaashi’s mind—it was incredible. But also tragic. How powerful would Bokuto be, had he not been repressed as a child? What wonders could he unlock, had witches been allowed to thrive? Everything could be different. The _world_ could be different. But…that was only Keiji’s opinion, his beliefs—others would not so easily be convinced just by a display of pretty magic. The ache in the ghost’s frozen heart dulled the longer he watched Bokuto bounce around the bedroom like a fluttering owl, laughing with joy at his abilities as the walls changed colors. This showcase made Akaashi even more certain of his belief that magical beings were allies to the public. If Bokuto could do all these things after not practicing magic for years, who was to say what he could learn if he did practice magic?

Shockingly, Keiji didn’t have time to dwell on the thought. It was nine in the morning, and Koutarou had to be at _Ghoulish_ by ten; the night passed so quickly, but Bokuto spent most of that time jumping on the bed with his magic book of spells, so he hadn’t heard his alarm go off at 8:30. Putting on a brave ghost expression, Akaashi left his spot in the corner and approached the bed, where the witch was sprawled out under and over the covers, long-sleeved shirt wrinkled and rolled up in places, jeans unbuttoned, but not taken off. His face was a pleasant sight, peaceful and drooling like the other mornings Keiji watched him silently—not that he would admit it. Bokuto’s perfectly spiked hair had somehow been mushed down entirely on the left side, although his face was pressed against the pillow on the right cheek.

Akaashi, unfamiliar with the burning sensation in his empty chest, cleared his throat and lightly poked the witch’s forehead.

“Bokuto-san,” He said in a normal tone. “It’s time to wake-up.”

“NNnnhh…”

The athlete scratched his stomach, hand getting caught in the fabric and accidently lifting it up to reveal his lower ab muscles. Akaashi stared at the unfamiliar site while still trying to wake the great beast.

“…You…have to go to work today.”

“Nnnnmm…”

“Bokuto-san.”

Another poke, only this time Keiji missed because his eyes were still trained on the hard muscles of Bokuto’s stomach.

“Mmn…. _noooo_ …” The witch groaned in annoyance, nose scrunching. “Geawaykurr…”

“Kuroo isn’t here. It’s Akaashi, and you need to get up before you’re late for work.”

As if by magic, Bokuto’s sleepy golden eyes shot open, staring directly at the ghost as he began to wake. If Akaashi had known the mention of him would trigger such a reaction, he would have done it right away and spared himself the erotic sight of Koutarou. Koutarou’s stomach, he meant. The witch sat up quickly, glancing around the room in confusion as reality came drifting back, replacing the image of dark forests and his evil mother; the ghost was standing beside his bed quietly, waiting for him to remember everything before speaking further. Bokuto rubbed his eyes tiredly, giving a quick glance at the clock to ensure he wasn’t already late—Suguru would act like it was okay if he arrived late, but the punishments would be subtle and severe. He learned that the hard way, like he learned every other lesson…

“M…Morning,” Bokuto mumbled, voice raspy with fatigue. “How did you sleep?”

Akaashi didn’t answer, waiting for the witch to gain intelligent consciousness. Koutarou didn’t see his mistake right away and pulled his shirt down while swinging his legs over the side of the mattress.

“You should eat and get dressed, Bokuto-san.” Keiji suggested, voice more even than usual, as if forced. “It would not be well for you to arrive late to work.”

“You’re telling me…”

Blindly, Bokuto stood from the bed, stretching his beefy arms over his head while not noticing he had almost run straight into Akaashi, the witch’s chest only inches from the ghost’s face as he remained where he was in surprise. Koutarou really had no filter or boundaries in the morning. Keiji learned that by watching him call his friend Kuroo at four a.m. one day, forced to listen to Bokuto’s ramblings about _something_ for a good ten-minutes. That rush of warmth struck Keiji again as he swallowed, waiting for the witch to get ready for the day.

“Do ghosts eat breakfast?” Bokuto asked with a tired smile, throwing the top cover over the spell books. “I can whip us up something really quick, if you want.”

“We are incapable of eating, as we do not feed off food to obtain energy. You go ahead.”

The witch nodded shortly, but didn’t leave the room until Akaashi moved towards the same direction. They followed each other into the kitchen silently, Keiji observing as Bokuto quickly poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down at the table quietly. The kitchen was filled with crunching noises and the ticking of the clock, but neither boy minded very much; Koutarou snuck glances at the ghost every so often, their talk from the night before falling back to the front of his mind. Akaashi had been struck by the information about magic being banned…surely he was still affected now, given his lack of conversation and eerie energy.

“What are you gunna do all day, Akaashi?” Bokuto asked, getting the ball rolling.

“Mm…I have some thinking to do that I didn’t get done last night,” The spirit shrugged. “You’ll be at work all day?”

“Just until six tonight, since it’s Saturday.”

“I see.”

Akaashi thought it silly of him to think that was a long time to spend alone when he had been doing it for over twenty-years, but…maybe it was his isolation all those days that caused him to crave attention and friendship from Bokuto now. He kept his feelings quiet on habit, accidentally making eye contact with the witch when they both looked up at the same time. Koutarou smiled over his bite, cheeks full of food, making Keiji snort under his breath.

“You know,” Bokuto mumbled, finally swallowing his bite. “If you get bored, maybe, if you want some things to do…you could do some stuff for me, like how you did my report the other day.”

“You won’t bribe me into doing your housework, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi replied smoothly. The other pouted, but after a moment of thought, the ghost continued. “…What kind of things could I do all day?”

“I’m glad you asked! I haven’t done laundry since moving in, I haven’t done the dishes or checked the milk in the fridge, and I also forgot to move the other boxes into the closet, and I still need to put up most of my Halloween decorations around the apartment. You did a good job putting away my other stuff, so if you wanted to do a few of those things, that’s cool!”

In actuality, Bokuto only didn’t put the boxes in the closet because he wouldn’t go near another closet for as long as he lived, but Akaashi didn’t need to know that. While he didn’t want the ghost using up all his energy on petty house chores, he wanted the ghost’s mind to be off magic for a while. The witch knew how haunting dark thoughts could be, attacking the soul at every open opportunity and moment of weakness, especially now that it was October. Akaashi was dead. He had all the time in the world to be suffocated by darkness, but Bokuto wasn’t going to allow that in his apartment—the only occasions when he could stand-up with courage took place when his friends were involved. Before this day, Kuroo had been the only exception.

“I’ll see what I can get done.” Keiji nodded, a little stunned at Bokuto’s determined stare.

“Great!”

“You’d better hurry if you want to make it on time.”

“It’s 9:20 already?!” Bokuto shouted, hurriedly shoving the rest of the cereal down his throat. “ _I gooa go shoawa_!”

Akaashi could only sigh with amusement and disappointment as Koutarou stripped off his clothing while running down the hallway, rushing into the bathroom without closing the door before turning the shower on. The ghost did him (and himself) a favor by shutting the door quietly, but not before putting toothpaste on Koutarou’s toothbrush so he wouldn’t have to waste time dropping the container with his struggling fingers. Bokuto was out in record time, throwing on new clothing and slipping the lanyard with his name on it over his neck; Akaashi watched quietly from every corner of the room, only speaking when Koutarou threw on his fall jacket, although his words didn’t echo the compliments he thought concerning Bokuto’s clothing choice. For being a simple college guy, he seemed to know what looks worked on his body frame.

“Have a good day, Bokuto-san.” Keiji said. He meant it, too.

The wet-haired man turned quickly, smile wider than the ghost had ever seen before—the fact that his hair was styled down for the day was shocking to Akaashi, who never pictured the witch in anything other than his spiked bangs. He wasn’t sure why his energy levels rose a bit at the pleasant sight.

“You too, Akaashi!!!” Koutarou shouted. “See you later!!!

Akaashi was stuck within the shockwaves many minutes after Bokuto left for the day. Company was never something he thought a ghost needed, but then again, he had always been different from the other spirits roaming the afterlife…it was the same in the land of the living, too. Keiji had always been unique, never letting his ideas be morphed by the opinions of the majority surrounding him; he now realized that despite his up-bringing’s, Bokuto was roughly the same way. The witch’s energy levels had never been as high and fluttering as they were last night, both before and after their talk—Keiji figured both of their attitude checks had something to do with the other’s company.

 

The mere idea of that existence was enough for Akaashi.

 

Bokuto skipped to work cheerfully, bouncing around other pedestrians and humming without a care in the world as he made his way to _Ghoulish_ , autumn chill doing nothing against his optimistic aura. Suguru could smell trouble from all the way down the street, eyeing the young man with a sharp glare when he jumped inside the store, greeting his boss with that obnoxiously loud voice.

“Morning, Suguru!

“…Good morning,” Daishou replied hesitantly, adjusting his turtle neck. “And how are you today?”

“Great! How are you?!”

“Fine, I suppose…dinner with the family always ends-up being entertaining.”

“Oh yeah, you guys had dinner last night, right?” Bokuto said aimlessly, hanging his jacket up. “Wasn’t it their anniversary?”

“Yes. And your friend _Kuroo_ brought up the most unpleasant subjects, speaking of demons and hell, their origins and methods of overpowering those species with particularly vulnerable personalities…” Suguru explained with a hiss. “Is it just me, or is he a little _too_ into his work? Some people might grow suspicious over his unwanted information on the subject.”

“Well, he is studying to be a _demonologist_ , Suguru…”

“Whatever,” Daishou huffed, holding out a half-empty potion bottle to the student. “That guy over there brought this potion back—try to explain to her that we are not to be held responsible if the purchased item does not work its magic, okay?”

Bokuto wondered what he did to deserve a sentence like that. Telling customers they didn’t accept refunds even if the potion or charm failed was his absolute _least_ favorite thing to do, second behind refusing to give a discount to persistent customers who insisted their item was the one on sale. The middle-aged man was standing at the register anxiously, waiting for Suguru to return with good news—Koutarou’s cheery mood fell a bit as he lowered his head and approached the dangerous scene.

“Hello,” Bokuto greeted quietly, walking behind the counter. “I understand you had a problem with this potion?”

“Yes,” The man nodded severely as Koutarou set the red potion down between them. “You see, I attempted to use it on the property surrounding my home in hopes of scaring off any werewolves that often scurry out of the woods behind our land…they scare my children, you see, and there’s a particular blonde one with frightening, glaring eyes who likes to growl at us when we get too close. I splashed a bit of the potion onto this werewolf to see if it would really work, and, well…it only made the beast grow angry. Does it work if I were to pour it in a circle around my home, or is it just a bottle of junk?”

“Siliginis perniciosa,” Bokuto read out loud. “Rye bane. Rye usually does a good job of keeping the wolves away…”

“That’s what I read, but apparently it doesn’t work!” The man cried.

Koutarou leaned down to further inspect the potion; he sniffed a strong sniff, inhaling the scent and naming the ingredients in his head; _sage, river water, silver, a hint of garlic, and…no rye. What kind of idiot made this potion?_

“Hm…”

The customer watched Bokuto carefully as he scanned the shop—not seeing Suguru anywhere, he reached underneath the till and opened a drawer where they kept various herb samples for those old women who wanted perfumes to ward off evil. He brushed aside most of the weeds, relying on his second nature to locate the rye grains; commoners wouldn’t be able to notice the magic sparkling inside Koutarou’s eyes when he skillfully crushed the seeds of the plant and slipped them into the potion bottle. The moment he shook the bottle, giving it two jolts, red clouds puffed and zapped inside the glass, making the customer’s eyes widen with surprise as the rye finally mixed with the remainder of the ingredients.

_Shake for daily doubles, for rye can mix with bubbles._

“There,” Bokuto nodded, trying to hide his smile. “That should do it.”

Suguru startled Koutarou out of his socks (literally) by walking up at his right side, entering from the back room with narrowed snake eyes; the customer happily snatched the potion again, eyes thankful with supreme gratitude when he looked back at Bokuto.

“Thank you so much, sir! The family will be pleased when I come home with a working potion!” He laughed. “To think, I was ready to sue this place for giving me another false potion! Have a good day!”

The customer ran out of the store talking to himself about werewolves and trespassers, leaving Bokuto behind to fix his socks and attempt to ignore Suguru’s intimidating stare. It kept on for a solid minute until Koutarou forced himself to glance upwards, meeting the dark eyes of Kuroo’s step-brother looking down at him with suspicion.

“What did you just do?” He asked coldly.

“Huh?”

“I saw the potion spark. What caused that?”

_Shit shit shit! Just keep fixing your socks. That’ll solve everything._

“H-Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘shake for daily doubles, for rye can mix with bubbles’?” Bokuto weakly replied. “My teacher told us about that a while back…guess it came in handy, huh? That guy was ready to sue us!”

Koutarou waited to see if Suguru would take the bait, staring back down at the ground below as Daishou let this excuse sink-in; he had to calm down. When his emotions ran high, so did his magic. That would be the end of Bokuto Koutarou if he allowed his nerves freedom at this very moment. Suguru would not hesitate to turn him in, maybe even kill the witch himself—Kuroo was at the college, so he wouldn’t be able to save his best friend like the other times…

Just as Bokuto looked back up, Suguru’s expression was lowering.

“…I can’t say I have heard that saying,” He responded, gaze still trained on his employee. “But I’ll remember it from now on.”

_Too close. Much too close…why do I have to be such a nice cashier? Why can’t I be an asshole businessman like Suguru?!_

“Why don’t you go put up the Halloween masks by the rest of the clothing section?” Daishou suggested innocently. Not. “I’ll watch the register for a bit.”

Bokuto tried not to let his sulking show, but it was kind of impossible when masks were one of the Halloween things he hated most. The witch slowly made his way over to the Halloween section, refusing to glance inside the box containing terrifying Halloween masks waiting to be placed on the stand; Koutarou didn’t look the entire time, hanging them up without pattern or skill, all while hiding from Suguru as the day passed. Every time the witch thought he had his emotions contained, Daishou would assign him a task that ignited the student’s worries again. It was exhausting, keeping every ounce of energy contained in fear of some escaping and causing a scene without Bokuto’s content. Kids were running around the store waving their Halloween costumes around, trying to scare the workers with their new masks as their parents tried to convince them of a less-scarring costume…all in all, Saturday was not a good day for Bokuto. Kuroo could only talk for a few minutes on the phone because he was in the middle of a very important demon experiment (Koutarou didn’t ask what kind of experiment), Suguru kept breathing down his neck the entire day, waiting for him to slip-up again, and near the late afternoon the air became horribly cold, whipping inside whenever the front door opened. To make matters worse, some of the older customers who come in for charms were discussing the ban on magic (loudly) while inside _Ghoulish_ , coming to the agreement that if anyone should be found using magic, they should be publicly executed. Bokuto thought that was a little much, but Suguru agreed with the old bags.

Somehow, the divination student made it to six, hurrying down the sidewalk without even saying goodbye to his boss.

To clear his mind, Bokuto hopped on the subway for a couple stops, pretending he needed to be somewhere like everyone else; truthfully, he wanted to go home more than anything, knowing Akaashi was probably bored out of his mind, but those depressing thoughts were getting to him again. His grip on the pole tightened as the subway jolted around, speeding down the tracks.

 _Suguru almost found out_ , Koutarou thought worriedly. _He almost found out, and if he found out, he would tell Kuroo. Then Kuroo…he probably wouldn’t be friends with me anymore. If not because he hated me, then because he didn’t want to split the family by not believing Suguru, even though he probably wouldn’t believe him right away, he would know it makes sense because of my weird behavior! Suguru will convince him of my evil, and then he’ll send all of Tokyo after me. If Kuroo joins them, then…then…_

_I’ll have nobody._

_Nobody._

_Nobody…_

ZAP!

 

A spark shot from Bokuto’s fingertips in a flash, so fast it might have been invisible to everyone except Koutarou—the witch could only watch in horror as the burst of electricity connected with the back of a young woman a few feet in front of him. She jolted in surprise, bolting around to glare at whoever was messing with her, and since the only other person in the car was Bokuto, who happened to be staring right at her with wide-eyes…well…

“Taketora…I think that weird guy just threw something at me,” Bokuto heard her whisper. He now recognized her from a picture that used to be hung-up in the back room at _Ghoulish_ —Suguru’s _ex-girlfriend_ from high school. What was her name again? Mika?

“Huh?!”

A frightening man with a blonde mohawk and deep scowl glanced over his shoulder, cat eyes similar to Kuroo’s glaring a hole through Koutarou’s head. The apparent boyfriend of Mika turned around fully, taking his arm off her shoulder to square up against whoever was threatening his mate.

“You tryna pick a fight, city boy?!”

“No, are you?!” _Why would I say that?_

“Did you or did you not throw something at my woman?!”

“I didn’t!”

“Liar!”

The subway came to a halting stop, throwing the man off balance; Bokuto sprinted out the subway door the second it opened, ignoring the shouts of the mohawk guy as he ran away as quickly as possible. The student prayed no one was watching him hurry down the streets of Tokyo—his magic was fluttering around anxiously, daring to exit through the tips of his fingers and the palms of his rough hands, barely visible sparkles glittering behind his form as he sprinted home. The Halloween decorations he passed along the way haunted him, seeming to jump out at every turn, lunging and inviting him to join their company and scare innocent civilians with his supreme powers. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he control it? Hadn’t he maintained control the night before, when he practiced all those old spells? His emotions weren’t as unstable as they were now, of course, but…but that didn’t matter too, much, right? Bokuto knew he was lying to himself, but he was scared to face the cold hard truth. Whenever his mother locked him in the closet, his magic would do wild things, attempting spells he had never even heard of before, bursting out in violent streaks. When his mother finally let him out (when Koutarou passed-out from exhaustion), his arms would always be covered scratch marks and strange coloring, like his own powers were working against him. Realizing the similarities between his past and present, Bokuto stopped walking completely.

Maybe…Suguru was right in his hatred towards magical beings. Maybe those charm stores were right in their methods to keep magic away. Maybe…his mother had been right about him.

 

Maybe magic _was_ dangerous after all.

~~~-~~~

By the time Bokuto made it home near seven at night, Akaashi was very concerned about him, almost regretting hanging the other’s now-clean underwear on a wire in the living room as a joke. His worried thoughts were interrupted by Bokuto’s presence entering the apartment, and the ghost hurriedly transported to the living room to investigate: Koutarou didn’t seem injured, though his aura was drained of energy, lacking enthusiasm like the person Keiji knew from whenever Kuroo visited or called. Considering how happy the young man had been acting this morning, something negative must have happened at work or after work.

“Good evening, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi greeted cautiously. “How was your day?”

It took a moment for Bokuto to respond with words; his eyes had been locked on Keiji since opening the door, even as he hung up his jacket, but he seemed at a loss while letting the ghost’s greeting sink-in. His grey and white hair was still flat on his head, bangs grazing over those high eyebrows while he gathered words together inside his brain, cogs moving slower than usual. He partially noticed the remainder of the Halloween decorations covering the living room, the new space in the hall where the rest of the moving boxes previously sat, and the sink was clear of dirty dishes for the first time. But these were not the details that captured his attention.

Akaashi was taken aback when the young man suddenly walked towards him, not stopping until they were chest to chest—still, he said nothing until another moment had passed, his topic taking Keiji by surprise.

“Some spirits can have physical forms,” Koutarou stated. “Right?”

“…Ah…yes, some can.” Akaashi swallowed. He had never been this close to a human being since his death; it was overwhelming his energy with a strange type of warmth.

“Do you?”

“Do I have a physical form?”

Bokuto nodded.

“My energy level is stronger than most ghosts, yes.”

“Would your energy balance be upset if I were to hug you?”

Akaashi blinked a few times, trying to decode Bokuto’s blank eyes as he stared down at the other with soft determination. Hugging? Koutarou wanted to hug a ghost? Why? Couldn’t he hug Kuroo if he wanted affection? While Keiji wasn’t exactly insulted by the offer, he wasn’t sure why Bokuto would want to hug him, of all people—hugging a ghost would be like hugging a fan shooting cold air directly at your face in the middle of winter. It wasn’t like normal hugs that made you all warm and fuzzy inside—

Before the spirit could explain this to Bokuto, he found himself engulfed by two strong biceps and pulled towards the witch’s broad chest.

“Thanks, Akaashee,” The taller said softly, not noticing the ghost’s stiffness and shock. Koutarou’s arms were locked around him firmly, trapping the cold air inside a bubble of warmth. “I’m not going to use magic anymore,” Koutarou whispered so quietly Akaashi barely heard. “I won’t use it anymore…but I’ll keep it contained. Okay?”

As if Keiji could form a response to that. Bokuto’s aura was overpowering in a nice way, an experience Akaashi had never known existed in the spirit world; usually, the only thing he felt was a coldness similar to the winter season surrounding him at all times, most likely from the lonely truth about the afterlife: you were dead. There was no bringing you back, no warmth to speak of, no happiness from tragedy. To feel something that was strong enough to overpower this… _sorrowful_ reaction to death was shocking to Akaashi, who could do nothing but allow Bokuto to hug him as long as he wished.

After a long moment following this ray of warm sunlight, Koutarou stepped back, releasing the reluctant ghost and giving a pained smile.

“I’ve got some reading to do for class, but do you mind if we sit on the couch together while I do it?”

“S…Sure.”

Keiji didn’t understand why his energy was affected so, even after Bokuto rushed past him and grabbed a divination book from the coffee table, plopping down on the couch as if the past minute never happened. His eyes were still haunted with tainted gold, but Akaashi was almost too dreamy to point the fact out; he blindly sat down beside the witch and stared at the muted TV screen blankly, trying to form coherent thoughts on what just happened.

“Umm…are those…my underwear, ‘Kaashi?”

Bokuto was blushing, now, staring over at the three pairs of clean underwear hanging on wire Keiji pinned by the window; he gave a short nod and watched carefully as Koutarou nodded in response, hiding his embarrassment by holding the divination book over his expression. _This human is not like others I’ve encountered_ , Akaashi thought, body still as they sat in the quiet of the night. _Some would argue that it’s his magic that sets him apart, but…why don’t I agree? Koutarou wasn’t using magic just now, and yet, his temperature affected mine as if manipulated by an unseen force. What could that mean? Does he have some ghostly powers as well? Maybe his magic enables him to reach over the veil with stronger force than most humans. Maybe Kuroo’s information on the paranormal world rubbed off on him? I hardly know…but to think that I would be the one startled by his abilities instead of the other way around…_

“Shoot!” Bokuto cried, making Akaashi flinch. “The Disney Halloween marathon—I’m missing it!!!”

Koutarou wildly unmuted the TV and turned the channel onto Disney, where the movie _Twitches_ was already playing; the ghost was startled by the witch’s energetic reaction to this particular movie, watching in awe as Bokuto pushed his homework aside carelessly and held his knees to his chest, golden eyes wide with excitement as he watched. His mood changed too drastically for Akaashi, who was used to feeling a shift in aura when amongst the living; Bokuto’s jumped over entire wavelengths instead of gradually altering its levels. One could compare it to a feral animal changing its mind over eating a helpless creature.

“…Is this a tradition that takes place during every October?” Keiji asked curiously.

“Oh yeah!” The grey-haired man nodded happily. “I watch every night every year! It helps calm me down and think happy October thoughts. I like _Twitches_ the best, but _Halloweentown_ is classic, too, and _The House of Villains_!!! You should watch the re-runs while you’re at home all day.”

“I’ll consider it.”

Koutarou smiled, but not like his usual smile, turning his attention back to the movie while Akaashi picked the divination book up; if he was going to be doing Bokuto’s homework again, he better read-up on what they were studying. The witch could probably do well on his homework if he focused, or had any desire to better his grades and make it to the top of the class…but Akaashi figured it was difficult for Koutarou to put his heart into the work when majority of the teaching in divination was not centered on magic, but scamming others with common sense and a few mystical lies. Keiji would never be able to take a class that discriminated against people like him—he was too outspoken against these things. Bokuto, on the other hand, had been taught his whole life that people hated what he was, what he could do, and therefore did not stand up for himself as one should have. Akaashi understood why, of course, judging on the nightmares he saw hints of while listening to Bokuto cry in his sleep…

“Bokuto-san,” The ghost addressed after a while of TV watching. “Can I ask you about something?”

“Sure. What about?” He asked without looking away from the screen.

“This discrimination against magic and magical beings—…how long has that practice been so severe?”

Koutarou visibly hesitated and tensed his entire body before answering; his attention was no longer on the screen anymore, though his eyes didn’t look away. Memories flooded whatever sense the witch’s mind craved, but he didn’t allow them to overpower him.

“Well…my grandmother said it all started before I was born. Probably right after your death,” Bokuto explained in a hushed voice, as if speaking on the subject was taboo. “There were several incidents resulting in the death of humans, like the girl in Karasuno who was cursed by a hidden evil eye, the man who ended-up dying because his wife was a witch and her powers got out of control during a fight…stuff like that.”

“And that was all? Just a few accidental deaths caused such prejudice?”

“Pretty much. Everyone became afraid of magic, and they thought it was the highest form of evil and the worst of superstitions—it was considered a bad omen if your child was born a witch. It meant you had done wrong in your past or something…oh…and…there was a highly publicized death of some asshole politician in upper-Tokyo in 1999. He went looking for this woman who supposedly cursed the election, etc. etc., he attacked her, she fought back and he went brain-dead after hitting his head against a rock.” Bokuto said. “That was kind of the final incident—and then…when I was a kid…there were lots of stories about young witches who couldn’t get a grip on their powers and ended-up hurting their friends or family. My mom tried burning all information and spell books I found, but they kept coming back.”

“Coming back after she burned them?” Akaashi asked in confusion. “How?”

“Magic, I guess,” Koutarou shrugged innocently. “I managed to keep my practice under wraps for a while, but…but…”

The witch had burned that memory out of his system long ago, though a few scenes were still faintly remembered deep within his mind; the day his mother found out about his secret magic sessions. It was the same day Kuroo’s memory had to be re-wiped. Sometimes Bokuto forgot…forgot that his best friend once knew about his magical abilities. They used to have such fun with it! But…when they didn’t hear Bokuto’s mother call them inside for the day, she went looking for them in the woods and stumbled upon their little magical playground—long story short, Koutarou’s mother forced him to use a memory wiping spell on his only friend. She seemed to know he had enough magic in him to perform it carefully enough where the only memories wiped included the magic and not the rest of his short life; Bokuto was locked in the closet for a week after that incident, following a series of horrible abuse methods that still didn’t hurt nearly as much as Kuroo not remembering his best friend’s magical abilities. Some of his best memories included levitating Kuroo above the trees, giving him real cat ears for a day...

“I see.” Akaashi nodded sympathetically, deep in thought. “…So…all this time I’ve been dead…witches have been hiding their powers.”

“Mhm. We’re really good at hiding, too.”

“I suppose you have to be, in order to survive.”

 

Bokuto nodded again. Keiji let the subject drop and returned to reading, though his mind was far from the subject of divination.

 

The apartment was quiet for the remainder of the night, with the exception of the Halloween movie and Bokuto’s occasional sniffles near the end, when the two twin witches realized the true core of their powers. Akaashi tried not to smile as Koutarou hung onto their every word.

_“Love is infinite,” Camryn said fiercely. “We can make as much as we want! Who do you love most in the whole world?”_

_“My mom.”_

_“My parents.”_

_“Lucinda, Nicole!”_

_“Beth!”_

_“My friends, my grandparents!”_

_“Miranda.”_

_“Ileana, Karsh.”_

_“My sister.”_

_“…My sister.”_

Bokuto’s sniffle was loud as he hurriedly wiped a tear off his cheek, glancing over to see if Akaashi noticed—the ghost was stuck on the book, eyes roaming the pages as the cover hid his amused and soft-hearted smile at the scene.

“This is a great movie,” Koutarou said, voice nearly cracking. “I wish I had a twin sister…then we could rule the world together and dispel all bad people to the shadowlands!”

“That would certainly be something. I wonder, would I be dispelled to the shadowlands for being what I am?”

“Of course not, Akaashi!” Bokuto cried. “You’re awesome!”

“I’m not sure that’s a valid reason, Bokuto-san.”

“Is too! I bet if I looked you up, there would be loads of cool articles describing how cool you are!”

“Feel free to look. If you find one, be sure to show me, although I may be in a temporary resting state by the time you discover one.”

“I’ll show you…”

Koutarou hurriedly whipped his phone out and opened the Internet app, typing Akaashi’s name while the ghost smiled to himself and watched quietly. Hundreds of articles and pictures came up right away, and although most of them were memorial articles, Bokuto’s eyes landed on a few interesting pictures from the 90’s…

“Oh…wow,” The witch accidently said out loud, clicking on a picture. “Um…this must be from a Halloween party, huh?”

Akaashi leaned over to see, smiling fondly when he saw the badly-taken image of he and a friend dressed-up at a Halloween party; he had agreed to be a Playboy bunny in order for his classmate to be Hugh Hefner, which he claimed would attract women. From what Keiji remembered, the only “woman” he went home with was Akaashi himself, and only because they were roommates at the college. Bokuto tried to hide his wandering eyes from landing on how well the black bunny outfit fit to Keiji’s waist and hips, showcasing his thin, pale skin perfectly—

“Alright, next one!”

The witch slid to the next photo, one of Akaashi holding a trophy that he apparently earned from winning an essay contest.

“See?! This one shows how cool you are, Akaashee!” Bokuto claimed, pointing at the picture happily. “What’d you win that giant-ass trophy for?”

“I believe it was a national essay contest.”

“Cool…I could be good at writing, but I can’t sit at a laptop and write for longer than ten-minutes.”

“I’m aware of that fact.”

Bokuto wanted to pout, but was distracted by the article titles he scrolled to further down the page; the ghost seemed to see where his attention was heading, turning back to the divination book as Koutarou clicked on the first article he saw. It was a news report from 1996 reporting the details of Akaashi’s death—while it would have been easy enough to ask Keiji, he didn’t want to pain the ghost with nostalgia and decided to read the article first.

 

_STUDENT STRUCK AND KILLED ON CROSSWALK_

_ October 29th 1996; Crow’s Nest Library, Tokyo. _

_A nineteen-year-old male student attending Tokyo Terror University was hit by a car and killed on the early morning of October 28 th while crossing the crosswalk from the Crow’s Nest library. Traffic recordings shows that the student, Akaashi Keiji, was walking across the street when he became distracted by something to his left (later proven to be a flashy hypnotist store on the block over from the library), causing his pace to slow until he was almost at a stop; at this point the pedestrian light turned back to red, signaling an on-coming car. Akaashi did not notice the change in lighting and continued to be distracted by the hypnosis shop as a car drove his way in the left turn lane—the driver was not intoxicated, but failed to notice the student in the dim lighting of the street. _

_The car struck the young male at an angle, as it was too late for the driver to hit the breaks, forcing them to turn in hopes of avoiding Akaashi, whose body was thrown into a nearby snowbank around 5:50 in the morning. The driver immediately called 1-1-9 and exited the car in hopes of assisting Akaashi, but found the young man already deceased on account of his immediate injuries, including a nearly destroyed kidney that ruptured because of a loose plastic piece on the grille of the SUV, which partially penetrated Akaashi’s stomach. The student’s official death time was 5:55 A.M, October 28 th. No legal actions have yet been taken against the hypnosis shop, though it is noted that the recent amount of violent incidents involving magic have been on the rise._

 

The article had been decent up until the last sentence. The latter part of the paragraph explained the bloody hole in Akaashi’s stomach area on the night the witch witnessed his episode at the window. Bokuto frowned and clicked on another news piece, this time stumbling on the official obituary for Akaashi written by his family; the student held his breath as he caught sight of Akaashi’s handsome university picture, ready for more tears to fall. Keiji looked so pleasant, so unassuming in the navy blue sweater…little did he know what tragedy lied ahead for him.

 

_AKAASHI KEIJI_

_December 5 th, 1976 to October 28th, 1996_

_Akaashi Keiji, 19, of Fukurodani, Tokyo, passed away on the morning of Monday, October 28 th from injuries sustained when a vehicle struck him as he was walking across a crosswalk. Keiji was born on December 5th, 1976 in Tokyo, Japan to Koji and Akari (Nakamura) Akaashi. He was raised in Fukurodani as an only child and attended high school there, graduating in 1996 with the highest honors. Keiji began studying at Tokyo Terror University that same year, hoping to major in magical studies to further his curiosity on magical beings. _

_Keiji was always known as a calm, well-mannered young man who wished to know more about everything and anything. It was not uncommon to find him at the public library in the early hours of the morning reading-up on a random subject just in case the information would be needed someday. He was popular amongst his classmates, both in high school and at university for his supreme intelligence and handsome, clean appearance; Keiji loved studying more than anything else, and preferred staying in on Friday nights to read a book. He also participated in high school volleyball on the Fukurodani varsity team, on which he was the starting setter for three years and the team captain as a third year. Keiji won several essay contests during the span of his high school career, even winning a national contest and a trip to Seoul for his essay on peace between the Republic of Korea and Japan, which he attended with his Korean grandmother and visited many historical sites. As a son, he was appreciative, helpful, willing, and the perfect image of a successful young man, who claims to owe his status to his parents. Keiji was a student of curiosity, always willing to go the extra mile for deeper information like a true adventurer. His calm, certain presence will be dearly missed by all who knew him, and we wish him peace and great happiness._

_Keiji was preceded in death by : his grandfather, Yu (Nakamura), grandmother Lee Hyung (Nakamura), Fukurodani, and grandmother Yuri (Akaashi), Nohebi._

_He is survived by : his father, Koji, mother Akari (Nakamura), aunt Aki Konoha (Nakamura), uncle Yuko, cousin Akinori, and his grandfather Saru (Akaashi), all of Fukurodani._

_Funeral Mass : A public funeral will be held at the Ginza Church, Tokyo, at 10:00 A.M. on Monday, November 4th. Friends, family and classmates are welcomed and are asked to please sign the guest book with a final message to Keiji._

_Memorial Service : The Tokyo Terror University will be holding a memorial service for Keiji at 8:00 P.M., Tuesday, November 5th. Students and other guests are asked to bring a candle, to be lit upon arrival in memory of our friend. Pictures of Keiji and other momentous objects will be placed on a shrine. _

_Burial : A private burial will follow the funeral service on Monday morning at the Lovely Bones Cemetery in Tokyo._

 

“Um…are you okay, Bokuto-san?”

“F-Fine!” Koutarou sniffled, hurriedly rubbing his eyes and pushing the phone away. “I-I just…you…you were so—are so nice, Kaashi…you didn’t deserve a death like that, so soon, so suddenly…”

Why was it that the people who died were always the individuals with potential? Bokuto hated to be wish death upon others, but why couldn’t it be someone horrible, some drug addict who stole and hurt people? Why did the nice ones always have to go first? Why couldn’t tragedies always follow those who initiated them with negativity, evil pasts and intentions…someone who was already headed down that path…someone with bad luck and little to live for…Bokuto couldn’t help himself in saying it out loud.

“It should have been someone like me.”

The entire apartment of 4B became ice cold, fluttering around eerily like a horror movie as Akaashi turned sharply, eyes blacker than Koutarou had ever seen before.

“Do _not_ say things like that,” Keiji commanded.

“S—Sorry, I…”

The ghost startled Bokuto by reeling his anger in with one grasp, shutting the divination book and leaning his head against Koutarou’s bicep, as if it were a pillow. Blush overwhelmed the witch’s cheeks as he stared down in shock, not used to lying in such intimate positions with…well, _anyone_. Kuroo got weird sometimes and asked Koutarou to rub his head when he didn’t feel well, but that was entirely different. Akaashi was…almost _napping_ on Bokuto, like they had known each other for years. Like they were _dating_ or something. The witch hurriedly said what he wanted to say before his mind caught-up to the romantic situation.

“I’m glad we’re friends, Akaashi,” He admitted. “I’m glad I met you.”

“Likewise, Bokuto-san.” The ghost hummed. “Don’t think such terrible thoughts about yourself.”

Bokuto didn’t think it was possible to glow from human interaction, but he must have been sparkling pretty damn bright after hearing those words escape Akaashi’s mouth and drift over his arm. They laid there silently and almost awkwardly for a while as the credits rolled down the TV screen, after which Bokuto’s thoughts starting wandering to dangerous places; all this physical contact with a ghost made him wonder if spirits could be intimate without being…succubus or incubi. Kuroo told him demons wasted no time in triggering sexual need in vulnerable humans, which led cause to concern for the ghost casually resting against his arm. Would Kuroo say he needed to exorcise the apartment, or would he say use condoms?

 

“Keep your thoughts to yourself, Bokuto-san.”

 

The witch blushed more than he already was and redirected his attention to the screen for the night. There were other days for these petty little thoughts…right now, Bokuto wanted to live in the moment with this ghost who had all the time in the world to sleep, yet was spending this hour resting his head against Koutarou’s arm. Bokuto didn’t really care about romance or any of that crap, but couldn’t deny the fluttering feeling inside his chest that sparked when Akaashi’s cold air brushed against his bare skin.

 

The following morning, at exactly 5:55 A.M., Akaashi Keiji didn’t relieve the accident that took his life for the first time in twenty years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's your update a couple hours early; i'm still not finished with chapter seven and I accidentally thought of another oneshot for Suguru x Kuroo. fmlllllllllll but I love the pain. ANywhoo, please enjoy and leave a comment with random thoughts or feelings about this chap! Also, I posted an old Halloween short story to my other account (BodhiJolieLark) so if you like evil eyes go check it out~
> 
> insta/tumblr: bodhi_the_bird  
> wattpad: kamiki_mermaid


	5. Hypnotized Horoscopes

_Wednesday, October 17 th_

With one friend, Bokuto was energetic; with _two_ friends, Bokuto was arguably ADHD, changing topics through various ranges of conversation in hopes of getting to know each friend better as October passed in cold chills. Akaashi was content with this new talkative side of Koutarou, and although Kuroo responded with similar reactions, his suspicions rose the happier Bokuto became. The demonologist figured his best friend had a secret girlfriend, or maybe had been secretly seeing a therapist and finally let go of his childhood trauma; this was not the case, of course, but Tetsurou couldn’t brainstorm enough crazy ideas to fit whatever weird phase Bokuto had entered. Not that he wanted the other student to be unhappy…it was nice being able to laugh and joke around with Koutarou, unconcerned about bringing-up bad memories or touchy subjects. Kuroo was just afraid he might accidently trigger a bad mood within his best friend again, and so, was as cautious as he was impressed. On one of the warmer weekdays they even played volleyball with some old teammates of theirs, though Bokuto had to duck out early for an unknown…well—whatever it was he had to get home to. Kuroo went so far as to sneak around apartment 4B while the tenant was showering one night, noticing nothing new with the exception of added Halloween decorations and a stronger presence that certainly did not belong to Bokuto.

But the demonologist student did not bring the subject up, should he scare Koutarou back into his submissive, child-like state as he usually did every October.

At _Ghoulish_ , kids and adults alike were hurrying in for their costumes and decorations, painfully aware they only had a few weeks left to plan their Halloween parties and finish their outfits; today they were serving pumpkin spice hot chocolate outside, so business had flourished all afternoon, mostly due to pumpkin spice fanatics visiting from foreign countries attracting much attention. Bokuto and Suguru were busy re-stocking the charms, costumes and (shitty) potions, but that Wednesday, the former found enough time to talk with Kuroo when he came to visit the store on his way home from university. Koutarou listened with mild interest as the cat man spoke of what his class had learned today—apparently, this new information shocked him, as all information on demons did.

“Did you know that one out of every _million_ people have experienced demonic possession?!” Kuroo practically shouted through the store. Another customer quickly grabbed a cross charm and handed it to Suguru at the register. “ _One_ out of every _million_ , Bokuto!!! Do you have any idea how fucked-up that is?!!”

“I guess that’s pretty bad, huh?” Koutarou shrugged while hanging-up a witch hat.

“With those odds, _we_ , as Tokyo citizens, one of the most populated cities in the _entire_ world probably know someone who is possessed by a demon right at this very _moment_ ,” The black-haired man continued seriously, making strong hand gestures to prove his point. “Every customer that comes in here could be possessed, looking for someone to harm using the host body—maybe you should buy one of those potions, you know…to keep them away.”

“The potions don’t work,” Bokuto chuckled under his breath, sliding past Kuroo to fix a fallen costume. “Shibayama’s grandmother already tried, and you still got in.”

“Ha ha, very funny. You know, if you said that in front of my teacher I could be strapped to a hospital bed and soaked in holy water. Demon accusations aren’t to be taken lightly.”

“Can the holy water help save your hair?”

“I’ve decided I don’t like you being snarky!” Tetsurou whined, following his friend none-the-less as they walked over to the mask section. “I might have to put on one of these masks and scare the sense back into you.”

“I’ll never speak to you again!”

“Would too!”

“Nuh uh! You know I hate masks more than anything!”

“Fine,” Kuroo smirked, snatching a Jason mask from Bokuto’s hand (which he had facing away from him). “I guess I’ll just have to scare my beloved brother, then!”

Bokuto covered his eyes hurriedly as Tetsurou slid the mask over his face, creating a horrifying image of a masked murderer hiding behind a new face and unruly black hair. Kuroo heard someone sneak up behind him, and on instinct jumped around with his hands in a clawing position, hoping to scare the living daylights out of the customer.

“BOO!!!!”

Silence reigned over the entire shop, and Bokuto dared to uncover his eyes, only to see Suguru standing in front of Kuroo with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed with disapproval. The demonologist immediately frowned, but kept the mask on as the step-brother’s stand-off began once more.

“I would appreciate it if you told me when you were stopping by, Kuroo-kun.” Daishou sneered.

After a short pause, Kuroo responded by breathing heavily through the mask, creating a creepy, muffled noise with each exhale.

“Take that ridiculous thing off before I smack it off your face!”

Tetsurou’s smirk was blinding as he took the mask off, turning to smile at Bokuto after another successful attempt to annoy his relative. Suguru was not amused in the slightest, and continued standing with his arms crossed until Kuroo turned back around.

“Is there any particular reason you decided to harass my shop today?” Daishou asked.

“Nah. Just wanted to see my best bud and my _favorite_ sibling,” Kuroo rolled his eyes.

“Well if you aren’t going to buy anything, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“This is a public shop—you can’t ask me to leave unless I’m stealing or causing a disturbance.”

“Well, you’re stealing my time and you’re disturbing Bokuto with your mask antics.”

“I just came to get my horoscopes!” Tetsurou replied innocently. “Right, Bo?”

Bokuto was the last person on earth who wanted to get between this sibling dispute, so he settled with a shrug and half-hid behind a rack of costumes. Suguru sighed heavily, rubbing his temples in irritation at Kuroo’s presence before abruptly walking away, itching at his arm as if the mere thought of Tetsurou being his step-brother made his skin break out in hives. _Those two really don’t get along well_ , Koutarou thought quietly while watching Kuroo glare a hole through Suguru’s head as he walked away. _I wonder how their parents can be so compatible together…there must be some kind of magic involved with that. Ew—what if Suguru was a witch? That would be freaky…Kuroo would surely form a prejudice against witches and magic if he found out about it…if Suguru IS magical, I hope he can keep his mouth shut about it._

_But at least I have Akaashi to back me up now!_

Like he had been doing for the past week or so, Koutarou smiled at the reminder of his ghostly friend, the one with cute cheeks and dreamy eyes, dark hair and pale skin; the one who, despite his tragic past, was kind, encouraging, amusing towards Bokuto, the current tenant of apartment 4B. Akaashi was a good friend to have, what with his worldly advice, maturity and cleanliness—the witch barely had to do any housework anymore (which he felt a little guilty about), and his reports were as good as done upon assignment. He finished his regular homework and provided Akaashi with needed information on divination in order for him to type the reports; Sensei Washijo was extremely impressed with Bokuto’s last work, and hoped for more improvement as the semester went on. Keiji, too, was pleased at “their” accomplishments through the month of October. Homework never got old for him, and he never rejected an offer to read or write about Bokuto’s major, though he always saved some of the thought-provoking themes for the actual student, giving him opportunities to brainstorm a great, provoking idea.

If that wasn’t a best friend, the witch didn’t know what was.

(There was also the fact that Akaashi was insanely attractive for a ghost, bringing out weird feelings within Bokuto he wanted to ignore in fear of them being classified as “ghost fetishes.”)

“Alrighty, Bokuto,” Kuroo began, cracking his knuckles. “Show me my future for October.”

One of the main reasons Suguru agreed to hire Koutarou was because of his major in divination; one every month, Bokuto would give horoscope predictions based on palm readings, star alignments and zodiac signs. It brought in many customers who, while none believed in magic, seemed to believe in hoax readings and bullshit inspirational quotes. This monthly practice also gave Bokuto some extra credit for divination class, which was much-needed during the last semester—only for his childhood friend did Koutarou give honest readings to. Reading Kuroo always made him nervous, though, should something about his magic be revealed in a shocking way, but he couldn’t say no, could never say no, and so let Kuroo sit down at the reading table where a fake glass ball sat in the middle for magical effect. The taller student sat down across from Bokuto, holding his right hand out for the other to investigate—but before Koutarou could start, he remembered something drastic.

 

Earlier in the week…he forbade himself from practicing magic.

 

The witch tried to hide his nervous sweating, though he was sure Kuroo noticed. Magic was dangerous. Magic was violent, uncontrollable. Magic was not to be used as carelessly as Bokuto used to perform it. Akaashi _died_ because of magic. Koutarou didn’t want to use magic anymore. Right? _Crap crap crap!_ Bokuto thought worriedly, stalling by shuffling the tarot cards on the table. _Think, think, think! You learn how to scam people every Tuesday and Thursday, you should be able to do this! Although I’ve always been a terrible liar…I promised myself I wouldn’t use magic anymore! People will hurt me if they find out! I can’t do it. I’ll have to give Kuroo a happy and non-daunting reading. But I can’t lie! Especially not to Kuroo!!! He deserves a good, fair reading from real divination powers combined with the alignment of the stars. And a bit of magic. But…but I told Akaashi I wouldn’t do magic anymore. I’ve actually done okay up until now, although I did re-heat the pumpkin spice hot chocolate this afternoon by subconsciously using magic…why oh why does this have to be MY problem?! Why can’t I just focus on my mother’s inability to comfort me as a child, like normal people?!_

“S…Scorpio, November 17th,” The witch felt and remembered, running his pointer finger along Kuroo’s palm gently. Despite the glass ball being fake, that didn’t stop a bit of magic from stirring around inside it. “Let’s see here…”

Body working against Bokuto’s mind, his nerves soaked-up Tetsurou’s energy, the blood within his veins, each thump of his beating heart as it kept him living and breathing; it felt the same as always, but of course, something had changed from the last time. Koutarou could only hold his breath as morphed images appeared in his mind as he stared at Kuroo’s palm, sensing a flurry of different emotions dancing throughout the Scorpio constellation above—it was almost merging with another, but Bokuto couldn’t see which star was about to interfere with Kuroo’s. The figure looked dark to the point of being invisible, non-existing.

“I’m sensing that you will meet someone new within the course of October’s end,” The witch hummed thoughtfully, pressing harder on Kuroo’s pinky finger. He immediately thought of Akaashi and became even more worried. “And…something…darker, a betrayal, maybe, will cause a shift in your cosmic energy.”

“My girlfriend is gunna cheat on me?!” Kuroo cried. “Do I get a girlfriend and then she cheats on me, Bo?!”

“Don’t count on it.”

“I thought this was a horoscope reading, not a magic eight ball session.”

Bokuto giggled fakely, feeling Kuroo’s exasperation upon no romance being revealed in his near future. Whatever dark mass followed Tetsurou did not have romance on its mind; Koutarou feared this energy was _him_ , connecting the dots between betrayal and his exposure of begin a witch, and searched further into his best friend’s future to avoid feeling totally overwhelmed with fear at this reveal. _This_ was why he hated horoscopes. Peeking into the future never resulted in anything positive, and his life was no exception. And performing them in October, the most haunted month of the entire year?!!!! This was suicidal!!! Usually Kuroo did his in November so he could try and brainstorm what his mother got him for his birthday, and for him to fight with Suguru and force Koutarou into this situation was nothing short of daunting. Bokuto tried shaking off the negativity, closing his eyes tighter and focusing his mind on the aura inside Kuroo, the passion and determination, the curiosity that reminded him a lot of Akaashi’s—he felt sparks run down his arms when he looked beyond and saw something worse than betrayal. A new form of evil did not lurk _behind_ Kuroo, but _within_ Kuroo. Koutarou held in a breath, biting his lip worriedly as he entered a somewhat catatonic state, staring into the abyss as a deep, difficult challenge presented itself to Kuroo in a shocking way, nearing the end of October. There were masks again, the one Tetsurou wore in Bokuto’s nightmare, one that spoke out loud, telling the story of a hard moment Kuroo would soon face, one that would test his abilities and his very soul.

_Not good. Not good, not good…change it! If you’re gunna use magic, use it to change—_

“Bokuto? You still there, buddy?”

The witch’s eyes opened slowly as his focus was broken by Kuroo addressing him. The words spilled out before he could filter them like he did for every other customer—

Because he just _couldn’t_ _lie_ to Kuroo.

“Something…something challenging will present itself to you near the end of this month,” Bokuto said, watching as Tetsurou’s eyebrows rose. “It will be very difficult, an event that will change you forever, test you to the extreme. It’s more serious than the betrayal because this challenge is already within you. The end of October will be a deciding time for you.”

Koutarou lost his breath at the reveal, releasing Kuroo’s hand roughly as he sat back in the chair, trying to quiet his recovery in the case of someone else observing them. His friend was silent for a moment, taking in the very real horoscope that predicted troubling times within the near future; he rubbed his itching palm before nodding in understanding.

“Wow. That’s…intense.” Kuroo coughed. “Um…thanks for the warning, I guess.”

The grey-haired man couldn’t bring himself to look up at Tetsurou, too afraid that he would see more if he peered into those cat eyes who told all. Divination really was a terrible subject for Bokuto: the only thing he feared more than the past was the future. A future without Kuroo, a future without magic, a future without Akaashi, without life itself…the future that may very well involve torture, just like his childhood, maybe even torture from the only living person he trusted anymore, his best friend…nothing was more frightening to the divination student than the concept of future. Those who suffer in childhood know of nothing else when they grow older. The mantras didn’t always help.

“Well—let’s see what your October will be like, then!”

Kuroo distracted his friend by taking out a Tokyo paper he had with him and opened it up to the horoscope page, pointing to September 20th, Virgo and reading the prediction to Bokuto in hopes of reviving him from whatever weird state he was in.

“Your weakness of the month is self-pity,” Kuroo read. He mumbled something about that always being Koutarou’s weakness under his breath before continuing. “Your strength will be sympathy. Sounds like you, hm?”

Bokuto nodded weakly, agreeing with both.

“Stay grounded this month and remember to address your body’s wishes as much as possible. (Well that’s not sexual at all…) And…if you try ignoring your true desires and needs, your want will only grow stronger and result in a burst of anger from being held down so severely. Wake yourself up with a few moments of doing what you really want; this will refresh your soul and leave you balanced in preparation for particular challenges. That’s pretty hot, huh, Bo?”

“Shut up!” Koutarou whined, kicking the other’s leg underneath the table. Although he admitted it with shame, the witch thought of Akaashi the entire time Kuroo was speaking of needs. Was that wrong? Did that make him a sick ghost pervert?

“What?! It’s basically telling you to get some!” Tetsurou announced happily. “If you don’t take the horoscope’s advice you’ll probably end-up streaking through the streets on Halloween in front of a strip club or something—I would _definitely_ get to a Halloween party and stick your tongue down a couple thro—”

“Shut up shut up shut up!!!”

“I know!” Kuroo said with excitement as his bestie covered his face up. “Let’s try one of these tarot card things!”

“Kuroo, no!”

Before Bokuto could smack his best friend’s hand away, Tetsurou snatched one of the cards up from the table and turned it towards him to read. His face dropped a little, and he gave Koutarou a sympathetic expression as the witch’s hands went to his hair with stress.

“Oo…that’s too bad.”

“W-What is it?!” Bokuto cried.

The messy-haired college student winced as he slowly turned the card, revealing a frightening horned man holding a pagan symbol.

“You got The Devil card.”

_JUST WHAT I NEED: THE DEVIL COMING TO IMPREGNATE ME IN MY SLEEP!!!_

Bokuto nearly passed out as he dropped his head on the table, whimpers escaping his mouth.

“It’s okay, it’s cool!” Kuroo tried to claim, patting the witch’s head with comfort. “It’s actually referring to your love life, not whether or not evil will worm its way into your life this October!”

“Too late,” Bokuto nearly sobbed.

“It says you need to be cautious of toxic relationships. ‘People tend to manipulate and misuse your trust, so remember that you have control over the amount of love you give to someone. Do not allow others to morph your emotions to fit their own, but also do not fear letting trustworthy individuals into your heart.’ That’s promising, isn’t it? I’ve been telling you that for years!”

“Have not.”

“Come on, Bo, it’s not so terrible!” Tetsurou chided, pushing on the other’s arm.

“You drew The Devil card, the absolute _worst_ of all cards while giving me a horoscope reading!” Koutarou accused, words muffled against the table. “How is that not terrible?!”

“Well excuse me for trying to help you lose your virginity…”

“I don’t wanna lose it to a scoundrel like the devil, thank you very much! I bet he wouldn’t even stay until the sun rose!”

Kuroo tried covering up his snorting laughter, only for a quick one to sneak out; Bokuto heard over his emotional turmoil and accidentally let a laugh of his own escape. Tetsurou let himself go and bent over the table, laughing to his heart’s content as the witch across from him finally sat up, giggling despite the situation. Their concerns were so childish sometimes; it reminded the witch of better days, when he was able to hide his friendship with Kuroo from his mother and they would roam the forest happily, playing games and volleyball all day long. They continued to chuckle at their stupidity until Suguru walked by and sneered at them.

“Get back to work, Bokuto.”

“S—Sorry,” Koutarou laughed breathlessly. “I’ll just…clean up here quick.”

Bokuto picked the tarot cards up and slid a rubber band over them as his best friend stood from the table, buttoning his jacket while that teasing smile lingered on his lips. _Why can’t we always be like this?_ Tetsurou wondered.

“Sorry I drew The Devil card during your horoscope.” Kuroo apologized lightly.

“Sorry there’s no romance in your future.”

“In all seriousness, Bo, I think you should seriously consider what yours said—you know, about letting people in. I worry about you, you know, being alone at your apartment all the time…maybe you should consider going out more. Join a club, go on a dating website or something.”

“Thanks, but…I kind already know who they were referring to.” Bokuto admitted, rubbing his hands together nervously. Kuroo took that response in stride, nodding without interrogating him about the person he went home to every night; he knew when Koutarou was ready for questions, and after the whole devil card incident, the demonologist figured now wasn’t the best time. He planned on getting it out of him someday, though.

“Well I’m glad,” The catish man nodded. “Text me tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“See you later.”

“Yeah…see you.”

Kuroo shot a final glare at Suguru before exiting the ghostly shop, leaving Bokuto at the horoscope table alone, pondering what had just happened. October was never a good month for him. It really wasn’t. Despite his love of Halloween movies and decorations and food…they were just never worth the stress he went under every Halloween night. Kuroo had trouble lying ahead. Bokuto was apparently closer to the devil than he thought, and love games were apparently starting in his personal life—those omens were not positive at all. Koutarou didn’t handle stress properly, didn’t know how to stand up for himself, and the horoscope suggested those skills would both be needed this coming October…was it possible for him to learn within a day or two?

Bokuto was troubled for the remainder of the afternoon, but surprisingly, the easiest part of the prediction to brush off was the romance reminder.

There didn’t exist a person in the witch’s life who was even remotely close to entering his heart with the intent of romance and true love; Kuroo was his only friend, and to be in love with Kuroo was a creepy thought. That would be like incest for Bokuto, who considered Tetsurou to be an older brother of sorts; twitches, if you would. There was Akaashi, of course, who was one of the first people the student found physically attractive, but the ghost was too smart for him, had better standards, and was, not to mention, a part of the afterlife. _Ghosts can’t date, right?_ Bokuto wondered as he walked home that cold evening, takeout tucked under his arm. _I mean, Akaashi’s cute, but I like him for way more than just his looks…he’s super smart, kind of a nerd when it comes to magical things, and he’s really nice to me even though I’m a witch! He’s supportive, encouraging, performs good house work, looks like an angel and is the only person aside from Kuroo (we don’t talk about that incident) to see me naked—I mean, I don’t think of dating him or anything…why did I tell Kuroo I kinda knew who the horoscope was talking about? Now he’ll think I’m lying about having a girlfriend!_

_Damn my anxious social skills._

As Bokuto walked home quietly, his thoughts drifted to the ghost who shared his apartment; had Akaashi ever had a serious romantic relationship? Maybe when he was alive he did. Probably a high school sweetheart, another super smart, perky-breasted bitch who Koutarou could never compete with…well, if he gained weight in his chest he might, but the smart part would probably never happen. Maybe Akaashi was bisexual—that would certainly be something. Bokuto had never given thought to what “label” he was, since his home life usually took-up most of the space inside his air-filled head, but maybe…maybe he like-liked Akaashi on both a physical and emotional level. It was possible for witches to love, right? Koutarou didn’t know, had no experience or knew of no one’s experience in this special category. Kuroo would probably have some theories, but Bokuto didn’t want to raise suspicion, and so walked home without solving any of his problems.

“Hey Akaashi, I’m—!”

Bokuto stumbled into his apartment loudly, only to sense that Akaashi wasn’t present at the moment; the ghost wasn’t in the living room, nor in the hallway or hanging on the ceiling or sitting in the corner watchfully. Koutarou cut the greeting off and dejectedly threw his jacket onto the kitchen table, plopping onto a table with a deep sigh—he had a lot of questions he wanted to ask Keiji, and now he would have to wait. Bokuto hated waiting. It always led to thinking which usually led to him sobbing while stuffing his face in front of the TV. The student sat there for a few quiet minutes wondering what he should be doing, attention only distracted when he noticed one of the Halloween decorations on the ground near the corner of the kitchen. It was a plastic pumpkin whose fake stem had broken off in the fall, and on instinct, Bokuto raised his hand and pointed at the object, watching as the stem molded itself back together after the silent command—

“W-Wait— _Damnit_!” The witch cursed at himself, yanking his hand downward. “No! Stop! No magic!!!”

Koutarou hurried out of the kitchen and into the living room, but instead of reaching for the remote, he blinked and switched the TV on, letting out a screech when he realized he did so.

“ _Crap_!!! Stop it, Bokuto, stop it!!!”

The grey-haired student hesitated when he made it to the hallway, almost running towards the marked-off closet instead of his bedroom, which would have resulted in even more chaos. Bokuto slammed the door shut behind him, but he used magic for that, too, because he was already in bed by the time he realized he forgot to close it, and screeched in agony again while pulling the covers up over his head.

“Take a nap naturally!” Koutarou commanded himself, holding his body in a fetal position. “You can _do_ this!!! Don’t depend on magic, don’t depend on magic…”

Something hard disturbed Bokuto from his forced-slumber, and he reached under his pillow to find out what it was, only to discover one of his magic books acting as a comfort aid. The witch froze his squirming and stared with wide eyes at the purple hued book—the horoscope prediction from earlier came rushing back to Bokuto’s mind. _…Remember to address your body’s wishes as much as possible. And…if you try ignoring your true desires and needs, your want will only grow stronger and result in a burst of anger from being held down so severely. Wake yourself up with a few moments of doing what you really want; this will refresh your soul and leave you balanced in preparation for particular challenges_. Koutarou knew that suggestion was just a bullshit article from the Tokyo newspaper, but they weren’t too off course with this one. The possibility sparked inside the witch’s mind for longer than he expected before being brushed aside aggressively after the reminder of what his mother would do if she discovered his treachery. Of course, Bokuto’s mother was dead, but misery trained him to be protective and secretive—no matter how much his nerves were wiggling, squirming, begging their owner to be used and purposeful…the divination student couldn’t bring himself to take that risk.

 

But he _wanted_ to.

 

He remembered the awed expression Akaashi had when witnessing him perform magic. He remembered the faces Kuroo used to make oh so long ago, when Bokuto would do harmless magic for their entertainment. Those were some of the best times of his life, and now Keiji had taken Kuroo’s place—Akaashi had searched for magic for the entirety of his nineteen years on this earth. He searched for the truth even in death. And Bokuto obviously couldn’t handle not doing magic, no matter how hard he tried; it was fighting a losing battle, mind over matter. The childish witch burrowed himself further into the bed, still gripping the book tightly in his hand as another unpleasant memory came bursting back into the forefront of his mind, reminding him why he was trying to forget magic in the first place.

_“Koutarou,” His mother began, a conversation he would never forget. “Do you understand why I protect you from yourself?”_

_He shook his head slowly, fearing another strike to his cheek over his ignorance. It never came, however, so the child dared to open his eyes and look at his mother._

_“It’s because you are a danger to yourself and others. The evil inside your blood can control you, take over before you’re conscious of its desires. Evil cannot be controlled—only covered. Mommy has to cover the evil inside you so she doesn’t lose you, understand?”_

_Even as a young boy, Bokuto could hear how insincere that last sentence was._

_“Koutarou……promise me you’ll cover the evil within your heart. Promise me.”_

_That wasn’t a request. Bokuto knew if he didn’t promise, his mother would put him in the closet again, or try and strain his blood of evil again, or prick his finger in hopes that he would bleed normal blood, or hit his face again when he remained silent…he had to speak. If he didn’t speak, he was damned._

_“P-P…Promise, M-Mommy.” Koutarou sniffled fearfully._

_“Good boy,” She smiled sickly. Her hug was cold, loveless, but Bokuto still hugged her back. “Good boy, Bokuto…”_

The book sparked under Bokuto’s tightening touch. He slowly opened his eyes to stare at his tensed forearm, the book dangling off the edge of the mattress— _why do I do this to myself?_ Koutarou wondered with a frown. _Why do I hide underneath my bed sheets like a kid? Why do I force myself away from…what I’m actually good at? Why do I push Kuroo away? Why do I prevent Akaashi from meeting the truth? Why do I do this to myself? Because my mom hurt me when I was a child? Because…no one else likes who I am?_

Koutarou squeezed the book even tighter.

_My grandmother liked who I was. When Kuroo knew…he liked who I was. And Akaashi—I think he likes who I am, too. The three most important people in my life all like who I am. So why don’t I join them?_

Bokuto pushed the covers off his body, sitting up in bed to stare down at the magical book he scanned through last week, during his magical circus show one night; he stared long and hard at the sparkly cover, the Latin words scattered on the front, the aged, yellow pages peeking out from the binding.

“Black cat, black cat…please come here…”

When he ran a finger over the title, that familiar rush of energy brushed out, fanning across his palm.

“I won’t hurt you…never fear…”

_Your want will only grow stronger…your want will only grow stronger…_

The buff witch stood from the bed, fingers tapping against the book tantalizingly, teasing him and daring him to open and read the pages; Bokuto was biting his lip harshly and struggling against what he had always wanted versus what his mother had always wanted—he didn’t want to be afraid of himself anymore. He wanted to be able to control his powers, to use them for housework and other things to be discovered. He wanted to do it for Akaashi, for his grandmother, for himself, and for Kuroo; upon forcing himself to glance away from the book, those golden eyes caught sight of the dreamcatcher Tetsurou made for his best friend all those years ago, back when he knew of Bokuto’s magic. It was hung on the bed frame right beside Bokuto’s pillow, a small red hoop with cat charms and candy corn beads on the grey thread, dark feathers cascading down from the nightmare trap. Kuroo knew his witch friend had bad dreams, and he made it for him one fall in hopes that it would help keep them away.

After all these years of trying to hide his magic…didn’t Bokuto owe it to himself, to Kuroo, to Akaashi, and to his grandmother?

 

Bokuto opened the book.

~~~-~~~

Akaashi had decided to spend the day roaming through the afterlife to clear his mind for a bit; he needed a little reboot of energy to keep himself going, and he didn’t want to keep draining all Bokuto’s batteries (they had gotten even more expensive over the past twenty-years), and so wandered the empty voids full of cosmic waves, soaking in as much as he could in hopes that he would be able to spend more time with Koutarou tonight. His thoughts had been wandering from subject to subject all day, though they always had something to do with Bokuto—despite the witch’s air-headedness, he always seemed to provoke humor and happiness from Akaashi in the strangest of ways. Keiji hoped that would be the same when he finally made his way through the maze of the afterlife and found himself plopping back inside apartment 4B. Immediately, the ghost knew something had changed. There was a drastic difference in energy polluting the entire apartment, even though nothing physical seemed off; the TV was turned on to the Disney Channel, the stove was cooking a bowl of ramen, and Bokuto—

Keiji could only stand in his corner with surprise as the college student came roaring into the living room wearing only socks and a pair of pumpkin-patterned boxers, shouting spells and balancing three books in his bulky bare arms. The spells he yelled didn’t seem to be working, but his attempts were admirable. Akaashi knew he wasn’t dreaming or having some sort of nightmare (no nightmare could be classified as much when it involved a half-naked Bokuto), so he remained silent and observed the scene from his corner of the living room, watching Bokuto jump onto the couch without noticing his presence; his eyes were furiously scanning over two books at once, going from one sentence to the other, comparing their descriptions before closing his wonder-filled eyes and determinedly giving another command. His strong, certain, absolutely _dominant_ voice shook Akaashi to his very core. He had never heard such a powerful tone from Bokuto before—maybe it was secretly a kink of the ghost’s or something, but Keiji was sure anyone else would have been affected by the sound, had they heard.

“Super tabernus.”

 _Hover above_. This was the spell he used to use on Kuroo all the time when they were arguing.

Keiji’s eyes widened as Bokuto’s form lifted off the couch cushions and began hovering in mid-air—his balance immediately wavered, resulting in the witch falling onto the other end of the couch, but the feat had been nothing short of amazing to the ghost. Koutarou gave a loud whoop into the cushions and launched himself back up, silently commanding the books to hover around him; Akaashi tried to ignore the fact that his boxers had been moved further down his back area from the impact and made a small noise in hopes of capturing Bokuto’s attention. The witch was too wrapped up in his books (for once), however, and did not hear.

“Objects are easier to move than people, but maybe if I combine the power of this spell with the hover above spell, I can—”

“Bokuto-san…”

Koutarou’s eyes finally flickered over to where Akaashi was creeping around in the corner like some pervert; the witch’s mood brightening even more than it already was as he grinned like a child.

“Hey hey, Akaashi!!! Where have you been?! Never mind that, I wanna show you what I can do!!!”

“Bokuto-san,” Keiji protested when the student came closer, books still following his moving form. He seemed to have forgotten about his clothing situation, making the other panic when he quickly advanced on the defenseless spirit. “Maybe you should…dress yourself properly before showing me what you can do. U-Unless, of course, being in your underwear has to do with…what you’ve apparently been practicing while I was away.”

The owlish man’s face remained still for a long moment before falling in horror as he glanced down at his naked self. The nervous, agitated Bokuto returned, and with a blushing face and shielding hands, the witch frantically scurried down the hall to his bedroom to find where he threw his clothing. Akaashi kept his eyes closed the entire time, trying to force the beautiful images away so he could focus. He was failing miserably and tried distracting his sinful mind with the image of a clothed Bokuto when the divination student (now wearing a handsome button-up shirt and jeans) returned sheepishly, magic books resting on the coffee table now.

“S-Sorry about that!” He apologized, refusing to look the ghost in the eyes. “I…may have gotten a little…carried away. Ha ha!”

“That’s alright…it is _your_ apartment, I probably shouldn’t be telling you what not to do,” Akaashi shrugged, equally embarrassed. “Well—what was it you wanted to show me? What’s going on?”

“Right. What I was going to show you—well, I…I may have…you know how—” Bokuto sighed at himself, shaking his head before continuing. “I told you…how I wasn’t going to practice magic anymore, right?”

“Yes,” Keiji hummed, disappointment showing despite how he tried hiding it.

“Well…I take it back. I’ve decided I don’t like being such a little bitch about my tragic up-bringing’s anymore!”

Koutarou picked one of the magic books up excitedly, holding it up to show his confused friend.

“See?! I’ve been practicing since I got home from work! Since I don’t have to be afraid of my mom locking me in a closet when she catches me using magic anymore, I’m going to practice a lot, _so_ much that I can be in control of it and don’t have to worry about accidentally exposing myself!” Bokuto cheered, using magic to stir his ramen. “Isn’t that great, Akaashi?! Aren’t you proud of me?!”

“I…wasn’t expecting this,” Keiji replied slowly, taking a few steps forward. The positive energy in the apartment was starting to drown him, but at least drowning in positivity was better than the other option. “So…you came to the conclusion that learning how to control your magic is the best path for you to take. Does that sound right?”

“Sure!”

“You’re forgetting your traumatic childhood experiences in hopes of becoming strong enough where your magic won’t lash out without your permission and expose you to the horrors of those who are against magic?”

“Yeah! Weird, right? Usually I’m the sulking type, but today I read my horoscope and had an enlightenment!” Koutarou explained while turning the brightness of the TV screen up with a snap of his fingers. It was truly incredible how many little spells he remembered, despite living under the reign of a magic Nazi his entire life. “And I—I wanted to do this…for you, too, Akaashi.”

“Me?” The spirit repeated, shaking himself out of the daydream that was Bokuto’s wonderful magic. “What do you mean?”

Bokuto slowly put an end to his mischief and became timid once again, dropping his head and fiddling with his fingers while trying to find the right words; admitting your crush on a ghost wasn’t exactly the best way to reveal why you started performing magic again…sure, there were other factors helping along his newfound positivity, but the more Koutarou peeked up at the handsome spirit, the more he just wanted to blurt out his growing feelings. There had to be some intelligent way of disguising those feelings. People disguised their dislike of Bokuto all the time to get group projects done! How did they do it?

 

“I want…” Koutarou began quietly. “…T-To give you the answers you searched for your whole life.”

 

Akaashi couldn’t really recover from that statement, nor could he recover from the sensation of Bokuto peering up at him with unbelievably hopeful eyes. _He’s facing his greatest fears, and…and he’s facing them not only for his benefit…but my own as well_ , Keiji repeated silently, unable to form a suitable response. _How did I get so lucky after twenty-years? What did I do to deserve a physically fit witch as a roommate?_

“Shoot! I forgot to text Kuroo!”

The ghost was granted mercy and released a quick breath when those golden eyes finally broke their hold on him, the witch hurrying over to the entrance of the apartment to grab his cell phone out of the jacket pocket; he quickly typed something and sent it to Kuroo, returning only a moment later with a proposition for Akaashi; apparently, he had been considering the matter for quite some time. By ‘quite some time,’ Akaashi figured about an hours worth of thought. Bokuto was easily distracted.

“Can I ask you a big favor, Kaashi?”

“…Sure.” The darker haired boy nodded almost shyly.

“W-Well, I understand if you don’t want to, but I was, um…I was wondering…” Koutarou cracked his knuckles anxiously, sparks flying out from the impact. “If…if it’s possible…would you like to be my test subject for something?”

“Sure.”

“A-And I’ll even print out a magical agreement sheet sayin—”

The divination student paused for a moment, trying to remember if he heard Akaashi right or if he had hallucinated the one-word agreement.

“…Um…did you say okay?” Bokuto asked.

“Yes. You said you would give me answers, didn’t you?”

It was Koutarou’s turn to be flustered, and he quickly turned away and scurried onto the couch cushions, sitting on his knees and motioning for Akaashi to join him.

“Come sit! I’ll show you what _real_ divination looks like.”

A feeling much greater than sexual desire shivered through Keiji’s cold figure as he hurried over and sat down across from Koutarou, who held one hand out as a silent sign for Akaashi to do the same; thankfully, his physical energy was strong enough today, not fading out when Bokuto took it between his own, spreading the fingers out and carefully running his own fingertips across the skin. Keiji didn’t know this kind of thing was possible—he didn’t know spirits were able to be captured by the beauty of magic like other beings were. Ghosts were supposed to be evil, cold, cut-off from the world, weren’t they? But…this was definitely real. What he felt was real, raw emotion.

Then again, maybe that was just because of _Bokuto_.

“Alright,” The witch sighed deeply, closing his eyes as Akaashi admired him. “I want to read your horoscope by reading your palm and the stars—I’m using a different method than usual, so try to keep as still as possible, okay, Akaashee? Tell me if you feel uncomfortable or anything, okay?!”

“Okay.”

“Alright,” Bokuto sighed again. Keiji wondered why he could never be this focused when attending to his homework. “I’m gunna start now. You may feel a little hypnotized…”

_What’s new?_

This type of hypnotizing was, in fact, drastically different from the usual; when Bokuto pressed his thumb into the ghost’s palm, Akaashi felt a wave of energy wash over his form, calming his mind to a point of blackness and silence, allowing Bokuto to reach inside his mind, to see the stars in alignment above them. He couldn’t tell what Koutarou saw, but felt his presence almost invade the ghostly one, peering into the darkest corners and blurry future in hopes of seeing something important—it reminded Keiji of the hypnotist shop by the library, the one with pretty colors and magical symbols that took their hold on him powerfully…

“Crap,” Bokuto mumbled right as his concentration began to waver, messing with Akaashi’s energy. “I can’t see anything.”

The spirit let out a small gasp when Koutarou released him, taking with him the tight hold on Keiji’s mind as the test subject struggled to adapt to normality.

“It’s probably…because of my physical state,” Akaashi huffed, totally breathless. “Ghosts aren’t really…supposed to have futures.”

“I guess…”

Bokuto sighed again, a pout coming to his lips as he sat back against the cushions with crossed arms, dejected stance making Akaashi want to laugh and scold him at the same time. Sure, it was depressing that Koutarou’s magic didn’t work on Keiji, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t affected him in some way—he wanted to see more, to feel more, to experience more of the magic this witch was going to practice daily. There was no reason to be upset over one tiny failure.

“Will you show me yours?”

“Huh?”

“Your horoscope—what did it say?” Akaashi questioned. “Surely you must be able to see your own, if not by magic then by someone else’s.”

“Oh, you know…the usual,” Bokuto tried to shrug off, standing up for no reason. “Watch out for these people, keep an eye on your career, etc. etc…”

“Doesn’t it say anything about love? From what I remember, the ones in the paper always seemed to focus on that.”

“Ah, well, you know me—not really the… _romantic_ type, haha…but, um…” The short pause gave Koutarou away, though Akaashi already knew he was lying about most of his horoscope. “That part was actually…pretty promising.”

_Promising. What does that mean? Bokuto’s going to get a girlfriend this month? Is someone going to ask him out?_

“…Good,” The ghost nodded shortly, though he was the one partially lying now. “I’m happy for your future success.”

Silence remained between them, but Koutarou had a goofy smile on his lips as he hurried back over to Akaashi, grabbing one of his spell books with anticipation.

 

“Now!” Bokuto cheered and grinned happily. “Do you wanna see a magic show, Akaashi?”

 

No one could have predicted that a repressed witch and a lonely spirit would stay up most of the night practicing and testing out magic spells, but that’s exactly what Bokuto and Akaashi did. They lit some candles in Bokuto’s bedroom to practice control (trying to keep all candles lit while performing other magic), trying out hundreds of useless and useful spells in hopes that Bokuto would still have enough magic left in him to perform them. He did well on every attempt, surprising Akaashi in the best way with his supreme skills, despite not having practiced like this since he was a child. Sometimes the witch would stop suddenly, freezing as if he would be caught doing something bad, but Keiji could always bring him back with a few gentle words of encouragement; Bokuto responded to this more than anything, resulting in a storm of cute little spells and colorful sparks from effort. The night and early morning hours passed such as, and Akaashi decided his favorite spell was movere fumi: _moving smoke_.

“Will you do the smoke one again?” The ghost asked for the hundredth time nearing 5:50 A.M.

Bokuto smiled like he did every time in the partial darkness of his bedroom and grabbed the glass ball, putting it in Keiji’s hands this time.

“Movere fumi.”

A burst of colorful smoke erupted inside the glass ball, moving and dancing with each other like practiced choreography as Akaashi held the glass carefully, eyes huge with wonder as he smiled at the scene. Koutarou stared like he did every time the spirit asked for this spell, tired eyes refusing to close despite their fatigue.

“I love this one,” Keiji said quietly, running his fingers along the glass. “It’s so colorful and childish.”

“Kinda like me!”

“Yes,” The spirit laughed. “Kind of like you, Bokuto-san.”

The witch gave a loud yawn, stretching his arms over his head and glancing over the battleground that laid over his room—papers and books were everywhere, along with the subjects of his attempted spells and tricks. All the candles remained lit and bright, much to Bokuto’s happiness. Who would have thought the divination major could study so hard?

“Ah…you should get to sleep, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi commented gently. “It’s so late, and you have class tom—”

Koutarou felt himself become wide-awake upon seeing Keiji’s ghostly body go entirely stiff. The glass ball fell from his fingers, dropping onto the mattress with a thump as the entire room went cold; the witch immediately looked at the alarm clock, seeing that the time read 5:54 A.M. One minute before Akaashi’s official death time. One minute before he relived the night on which he tragically died at such a young age…

“Kaashi?!”

The ghost didn’t answer, stuck in the stiff position as a warp of white energy began to form over his lower abdomen. Bokuto sensed his panic overcoming the candle light and quickly snatched up a spell book, flipping to one of the final pages to find the spell he was searching for—his eyes scanned up and down, feeling the minute fly by, edging closer and closer to the bane of Akaashi’s ghostly existence. The candles began flickering dangerously, the air becoming colder and colder and colder—

“Tempus omit!”

 _Time skip_.

A flash of light sprinted past Bokuto’s widening eyes at the same time every lightbulb in the entire apartment shattered, the magic too much for their energy levels to bear; the glass ball at Keiji’s knees also broke, the pieces hovering due to their magical ability. The only way Koutarou knew the spell had worked was the absence of freezing temperatures surrounding his body. Akaashi’s eyes opened suddenly, their color trembling with on-coming tears, though they didn’t fall on account of the ghost’s confusion over what happened. Koutarou wanted to grab him, to hug him, but he too was frozen in his spot on the bed, waiting for Keiji to do something. The candles remained lit, their yellow flame more powerful than ever, though neither of the boys noticed.

 

The alarm clock now read _5:56 A.M._

 

“What…What just happened?” The spirit whispered.

“I…I skipped over 5:55.” Bokuto explained quietly, leaning forward to quickly fix the glass ball. “Um…the minute still happened and everything, but I just…made it go by even faster so you…wouldn’t have to go through that again.”

Keiji stared at the crazy-haired student for a long moment before throwing his arms around the witch’s shoulders, tackling him into a cold, but appreciative hug that Bokuto was eager to return. He managed to ignore their awkward position on the bed in favor of Akaashi’s passionate request.

“Show me more,” The ghost begged fiercely as he practically sat on Koutarou’s lap. “Will you show me more, tomorrow?”

“Of course, Kaashi.”

“Okay. Th… _Thank you_ , Bokuto-san.”

“Y-Yeah…anytime!”

“You need sleep,” The ghost nodded, changing pace by tugging the witch towards the top of the bed. “You go to sleep. I’ll clean the glass up.”

“But I—”

“No no…you need rest, Bokuto-san. Your body isn’t used to such extensive amounts of practice. Sleep, now.”

Bokuto decided not to argue with the emotional ghost; he _was_ exhausted, but in the best kind of way, a way he hadn’t felt since volleyball back in high school. Akaashi tucked him in like a mother would, pulling the covers over his broad shoulders and taking the fixed glass ball off the mattress so the witch wouldn’t kick it off in his sleep—he had seen the wild positions Koutarou got himself into during his weird dreams at night, so leaving a glass ball on top of the covers was asking for trouble. Those gold eyes fell shut almost immediately, but mumbled, sleepy words escaped his lips; Keiji couldn’t make them out on account of his own mind rambles, but a second later, the glass ball lit-up with pinks and blues, smoke returning for one last show. As much as Akaashi wanted to cry at the sight balanced between his palms, Bokuto’s next whispers were audible, and he listened carefully.

 

“Hey Kaashi,” He mumbled. “Are the candles still lit?”

“Yes…every last one.” Keiji nodded with a smile.

The corner of Bokuto’s lips tilted upwards.

“Hmm…I guess I am a witch after all.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeeeet Halloween is around the corner! I finished watching the Japanese Good Doctor (cried every episode but I absolutely loved it) now imma watch Goblin! I'm sure it will rip my heart out in the same fashion, so wish me luck
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Magic Shop

_Saturday, October 20 th_

On Saturday, Kuroo was finally free of his graveyard and schooling duties; October was an intense time for demonologists, and although he loved what he studied, it was nice to have a day off for himself. Bokuto had to work today, unfortunately, so after bumming around for most of the afternoon, the black-haired man decided he would pay his friend (and snotty snake of a step brother) a visit while picking-out a Halloween costume for the demonologist party on October 28th. The “party” wasn’t so much a “party” as it was a themed get-together to discuss this week’s homework. Kuroo was just happy to feel like a normal college kid who looked forward to seeing the unfairly intelligent and attractive demonologist lady Shimizu in a (hopefully) sexy Halloween costume. Bokuto told him he wouldn’t get that lucky, since Shimizu was a woman of class, but Kuroo wouldn’t let that kill his dream.

There were a few other customers inside _Ghoulish_ when Tetsurou arrived, and he happily noticed Suguru was busy at the till while Bokuto was fixing some hangers near the costumes; resisting the urge to scare the shit out of his best friend, Kuroo hopped over and hip-checked the young man, though the other hardly moved an inch. The grey-haired student greeted him without looking over.

“What’s up, Kuroo?”

“You’re no fun,” Tetsurou grumbled, leaning on the costume rack. Almost all the Halloween decoration sections were totally empty, cleared from the party managers preparing for their huge get togethers. “Hey; what costume do you think I should get for my demonologist Halloween party? And don’t say I’m already wearing one—that joke is only funny once.”

“But it’s so true!” Bokuto snickered while hanging-up a costume. “Are you thinking seductive or cosplay?”

“I did cosplay last year. In order for Shimizu-san to see how manly I really am, I want something in between—something that says ‘hey; I’m a guy that can make you laugh,’ but _also_ says ‘hey girl, let me love you unconditionally and protect you at all costs.’”

“Yeah…I don’t think we have anything in that genre…” Koutarou shrugged, motioning Kuroo over to another rack. These costumes were more on the slutty side, but they had them in men’s styles, so the owlish man figured they might work. “We only have seductive, trampy and incubus.”

“Hey!” Tetsurou nearly shouted, pushing away a set of Halloween lingerie Bokuto held out for him. “Incubus jokes are not funny!”

Suguru shot them a dirty look as he finished up with a customer; his step brother resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at him and followed Bokuto over to a nicer rack of costumes.

“Why do you guys even _have_ a party?” Koutarou asked out-loud, flipping through the rack. “Aren’t parties supposed to like…involve alcohol and drinking games or something? Does anyone even get laid?”

“Only the charming ones, like me.” Kuroo smiled proudly.

“I’m sure...”

“What are you implying?”

“Nothing,” Bokuto shrugged innocently, holding up a cute, yet slightly revealing black cat costume to Kuroo’s chest. “I’m just remembering a few weeks ago when you emotionally admitted to me that you were a virgin.”

“Y-You’re a virgin, too!!!!” Tetsurou squealed loudly, causing Suguru to turn and walk over. Kuroo’s attention was distracted by the costume Bokuto picked out for him. “Ooo…this actually looks really good on me! It’s like a rated R version of the one I had as a kid!”

“Yeah,” Koutarou smiled fondly. “I remember.”

“Ew, you pictured me in this costume when we were _kids_?! Sick, Bokuto!”

“N-No, that’s not what I meant!”

“I know you children can’t seem to control yourselves when you’re together,” Suguru said as he approached them. “But do the customers a favor and at least _try_.”

The demonologist shot a glare at Daishou, but was determined not to fight with him and thus, ruin his good mood. Instead, he turned to show the snake his new costume, pinning the fabric against his body seductively.

“What do you think of my costume, Daishou-chan?” Kuroo asked with a fake smile. “It’s cute, huh?”

“For a slutty fifteen-year-old, maybe.”

“Ahh, you shouldn’t say such sinful words, Daishou!” His step brother teased, tucking the costume under his arm. “I’m just grabbing a few things for the demonologist Halloween party—you’re welcome to come since you don’t have anything else planned.”

“Who said I don’t have plans?”

“Well, I just figure a busy store owner like yourself has no time to make a social life of his own.”

“You’re sorely mistaken—in fact, I’ve invited Bokuto-san to my cousin’s Halloween party tonight.” Suguru answered boldly.

Kuroo looked over at his friend in surprise as the divination student traced his memory, trying to remember when that particular conversation took place.

“You did?” Bokuto asked quietly.

“Yes. Remember?” Daishou hissed, trying to get his employee to play along. “I asked if you wanted to come a few days ago.”

“Sorry…guess I forgot. Oh well, too late to get a costume ready now!”

“Bokuto hates parties,” Tetsurou loosely explained. “That’s only one of the reasons I know you’re a lying sack of shit, Daishou.”

“Bokuto,” The neat-haired brother smiled sickly. “Please go refill a few of the potions. I’ll stay and keep my dearest sibling entertained.”

“Go ahead, Bo.” Kuroo nodded, winking at his anxious friend. “I’ll wait right here for you.”

Koutarou didn’t hesitate to sprint to the back room, happily escaping from the tense conversation; he didn’t want Suguru interrogating him over his lack of party spirit. Of course, it was easy enough to say he didn’t like the loud crowd or drinking atmosphere, but Bokuto was a terrible liar, and since he practiced magic with Akaashi more frequently, now…well—lying about who he was would be harder than ever. The witch could only hope Kuroo didn’t run his mouth too much. Koutarou took a quick breath to relax his body before going over to the potion rack beside the coat hangers, mentally remembering what potions he was supposed to restock behind the register; Kuroo’s voice drifted through the door in that teasing tone, though Suguru’s quickly overpowered it as the other employee read through his list.

“Vampire itch, paranormal veil, blood scent manipulator…hm.”

Bokuto spotted all the bottles he needed with the exception of paranormal veil—despite the truck coming with their supplies only yesterday afternoon, the PV section was totally empty. Either someone had bought all the supply or Suguru forgot to order some. Koutarou figured he should at least look, lest his boss get angry with him after finding a few bottles in the exact spot they should have been. The witch sighed and stuck his arm in the empty shelf spot, reaching back to the wall and feeling nothing.

“Great,” He sighed again, letting his head drop. “Whenever we’re out of something, the customer’s always want it most—”

A clinking noise captured Koutarou’s attention as his knuckles connected with something, causing it to hit another bottle beside it. Bokuto frowned and reached back to the left, fingers clasping around a potion bottle hidden in the shadows of the shelf above; upon pulling the mysterious glass out, the student thought he had gotten lucky and found the last remaining paranormal veil potion. The color of its liquid was dark purple, smoky, but…despite the similarities…Bokuto quickly realized this was definitely _not_ paranormal veil. He ran his fingers over the thin glass, narrowing his eyes at the dark sparkles, the frightening glimmer of whatever liquid lurked inside—he didn’t think he had ever seen such a potion before. To make matters stranger, there was no label what-so-ever on any side of the bottle, no inscription of where it was made, who the maker was, etc. etc…there was nothing. That was what made it so suspicious to Bokuto.

“Hm,” The witch hummed cautiously, turning the bottle over as it sent a shock through his nerves. “That’s a little weird…who makes a potion and forgets to label it? Unless…they didn’t _want_ it to be labelled…”

Abuse from his mother taught Bokuto one useful skill—after suffering for sixteen years, the young witch could always tell when someone or something was up to something. The aura around his mother was the same around people at bullies at school, creepy criminals on the streets, corrupt politicians; Bokuto’s skills in sensing evil rose above even that of Kuroo, who studied _demons_ for a living. When Koutarou held this potion between his fingers, he sensed something terrible, and knew very well whoever created the substance did not do so with kind intentions.

 

Unfortunately, his curiosity got the better of him, and in his need to know what the potion did, Bokuto hurried over to his bag and shoved the bottle inside before taking the rest of the potions and exiting the back room.

 

 _It’s not shoplifting if you promise to give it back, it’s not shoplifting if you promise to give it back!_ The witch told himself as he anxiously slid the remainder of the potions in their correct spot behind the register. _You’re not a criminal, you’re just checking to make sure someone else here isn’t a criminal! Yeah! No need to worry! We don’t have a beeper at the doors like at the mall! You’ll be fine!_

“Bo!” Kuroo shouted, startling the witch even more. “What took you so long? Your boss has been harassing me all this time!”

“Please leave my shop!” Suguru snapped, storming away from his step brother and brushing past Bokuto angrily; he guessed Tetsurou had really gone at him with insults today, because Daishou usually didn’t get so worked-up. Arrogant people were like that sometimes. Koutarou held his breath and prayed his boss wasn’t able to smell the guilt on him while walking by—when the coast was clear, Bokuto hurried over to his friend, trying to forget the first crime he ever committed. This was what his life had come to? Stealing unmarked potions from where he worked? His mother would sure be proud of him…

“Do you think I need a mask for this?” Tetsurou asked with genuine concern, glancing over the costume. “The tail adds a nice portion of sexy, but I personally think masks look dope on me—I have the right face shape, you know?”

Kuroo looked over at Bokuto for confirmation, only to find those golden eyes lost in another world while staring at the cat outfit; he waved a hand in front of his friend’s face several times before the other came back to earth.

“Huh? What’d you say?” Koutarou flinched.

“I was just asking if you—never mind.” Tetsurou waved it off. His cat-like eyes studied Bokuto carefully, looking for any of the usual triggers in his posture. “Are you okay, Bo?”

“Uhh…yeah! I’m fine! Sorry…just a little tired, that’s all.” Bokuto replied. Kuroo knew he was lying, and thought his attempt pitiful. “Hey, can you do me a favor? All my lightbulbs are broke, so I need some new ones—you wanna pick out some Halloween-themed ones? I need at least four.”

“How the hell did all your lightbulbs break?”

“I don’t know,” The shorter man lied again, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll pay you back if you get them for me today.”

“…Don’t worry about it,” Kuroo said slowly. Sometimes he really felt horrible about not being able to do anything for Bokuto when he got like this; October wasn’t the best month for either of them. Tetsurou knew this was when his best friend’s anxiety was at its highest level, and each passing year making him feel better became harder and harder for Kuroo. “Consider it a Halloween gift.”

“You’re the best, Kuroo!”

“I know, I know…now help me pick a mask out, would ya?”

“Alright!”

Due to his extreme fear of masks, Bokuto closed his eyes when facing the mask section and reached out blindly, grabbing a black eye-mask that matched the cat costume by sheer luck.

“What about this one?”

“Works for me—hey…do you think Shimizu will like it? This isn’t too childish, right?”

“She might appreciate the color coordination; it matches your hair nicely.”

“No homo, bro.”

“ _Bokuto_ ,” Suguru said suddenly, popping-up out of nowhere with exasperated eyes. “If you leave now and take this black beast with you, I will pay you for the last hour and _extra_!”

“Wow, really?!”

“ _Yes_!”

“Sweet! Thanks, Daishou-san!”

Koutarou hurriedly pulled Kuroo over to the register, a stupid grin on his face as he rang the costume and lightbulbs up while his boss rubbed his forehead in the corner; that was what he deserved for hiring such a childish college student who happened to be best friends with his step-brother! Tetsurou went through his plan of sticking his tongue out at Suguru when Bokuto went to retrieve his bag (with the stolen potion still inside), hurrying back out at a quick pace while hoping the guilt didn’t show on his face too heavily. His first attempt at shoplifting was a success, he and Kuroo practically sprinted down the street, happy Suguru wasn’t chasing after them—Tetsurou stopped him after a block, heaving over his knees while trying to protect his _Ghoulish_ bag and its content from the cold wind.

“Why…the hell…are we running?” Kuroo coughed.

“Don’t you always run away from the graveyard when you get off your shift?”

“No, I _walk_ because I’m _tired_!”

Bokuto laughed breathily and waited for his friend to regain consciousness before they set off again, this time keeping a slow walking pace so they could talk. The witch’s mind was elsewhere (by elsewhere, he meant Akaashi and the potion), but his attention returned to Kuroo when the latter suggested they stop at a coffee shop to get something to eat.

“Wanna go in there for dinner?” Tetsurou asked, pointing to a shop ahead. “I’ve eaten there before, it’s all pretty good. Plus, it’s freezing out—I need to warm-up for a while.”

“Actually!” Bokuto answered frantically as Kuroo began to walk forward. “Actually, um…”

_Akaashi’s at home alone. He’s probably pretty lonely…I shouldn’t leave him when I got off work an hour early…will he be upset if I hang out with Kuroo for a while? I mean, it’s not like we’re dating! I don’t report everything I do, right? What to do…_

“What?” Kuroo questioned, pausing to look at Bokuto steadily. “You have other plans or something?”

Sometimes Tetsurou would give his best friend this kitten-like expression to get what he wanted, but Koutarou doubted he was doing it on purpose now; he seemed genuinely surprised that Bokuto was about to turn down an offer of lunch when they had the rest of the afternoon off together. That guilt and the guilt of shoplifting from the store where he worked was enough to break down his resolve.

“N-Nothing,” The witch shook his head. “Let’s go.”

Kuroo shrugged to himself and led Bokuto to the coffee shop, where they sat down at a warm booth near the window and ordered some lunch; the demonologist got his usual pumpkin spice pancakes with sausage links and pumpkin spice coffee (mixed with pumpkin spice vodka his waiter friend slipped in there). The meat-loving divination student ordered something less Western-white girl style and settled with roasted sweet potatoes, gyudon (beef bowl) and a cup of onion soup. Tetsurou criticized his choices while stuffing his face and insisting Bokuto try the pumpkin spice vodka-coffee mixture.

“Seriously, Bo, try some,” He said, shoving the cup in his direction again. “It’s delicioso!”

“How much vodka is in that?” Bokuto joked weakly, gently pushing the hand out of his space.

“I don’t know—but I _do_ know that I’m a total _slut_ for pumpkin spice,” Kuroo admitted, cutting another huge bite off his stack of pancakes. “Those Westerners finally did something right with this one; if pumpkin spice was a person, I’d ask them to marry me and take my virginity.”

“Can I be the best man?”

Tetsurou laughed and broke out of his food coma to notice how jittery Bokuto had become again, glancing at his phone anxiously and continuously checking the clock as they munched on their food. There had to be a secret girlfriend—no way was Koutarou willing to go back to his lonely apartment otherwise…maybe one of the neighbors was some hot nurse or something. But wouldn’t Bokuto tell him all about that, if it were the case? The catish man was running out of theories and watched in silence as Koutarou ate the last of his meal in record time.

“Well, I’m done here!” Bokuto said, throwing some yen onto the table. “Since you paid for my lightbulbs, I’ll pay for dinner, mk?”

“I won’t say no to that…what’s the rush? You got somewhere to be?”

“Uhh…well, I just…want to get caught-up on homework,” The witch lied again, putting the lightbulbs into his bag over the potion. “Like you said, I should get as many points as possible during the first semester, since I usually fall off after Christmas. Have a good night off, okay?”

“Yeah…thanks.”

“See you later!”

Kuroo couldn’t find a proper goodbye to match his friend’s, and so, remained silent and watched as the owl hopped out of the shop and down the darkening street, disappearing into the frozen wind that would soon turn to snow. _There’s no denying he’s hiding something_ , Tetsurou thought quietly, staring down at his pancakes. _He’s managed to keep it hush hush for this long…but…_

_“All my lightbulbs broke…”_

_“How the hell did all your lightbulbs break?”_

_“I don’t know…”_

_What the hell kind of secret would be so serious that he would hide it from ME?_

~~~-~~~

Akaashi spent most of his day recovering from visions of magic by watching re-runs of the Disney Halloween marathon and stealing energy from the neighboring apartments; over the past few days, he and Bokuto had gotten a lot done, magic wise, and the latter was starting to get back in the groove. Even with what little practice he performed, Koutarou was able to do many spells without saying anything, even spells that usually required an extra push. It was incredible to Keiji, watching this transformation right before his very eyes—not everyone was lucky enough to experience such a feat, and he had never felt happier, even in life, when he couldn’t walk through walls or walk around without being seen by most people.

Oh…and it was nice having a friend, too.

Honestly, Keiji never really had time for friendships when he was alive…he was always too busy with his studies, with whatever new news there was on magic. He always received plenty of invitations, and even plenty flowers on Valentine’s Day at Fukurodani, but nothing like that ever took priority over knowledge. In death, nothing had really changed except now there was more time in a day to experiment and search; but even Akaashi needed a break sometimes, and breaks from studies always resulted in thought-provoking ideas of romance and friendship. There were stories he heard of ghosts like him finding other spirits to roam around with in the afterlife…he didn’t understand how such a thing worked, but forever seemed like a nice amount of time to spend with someone in your same situation. Akaashi’s current feelings became an immediate problem, though—

Because he wasn’t crushing on another ghost. He was crushing on someone _living_.

The Disney movies helped explain his sudden feelings of longing for Bokuto Koutarou, his roommate and magical friend, but none of them had a guide for dating someone of another world. Akaashi didn’t know if he even _wanted_ to date Bokuto—he never experienced romance during his lifetime, and it seemed odd to learn about the subject now, when nothing could come of those emotions, but even realist Keiji couldn’t deny those growing feelings pushed to the bottom of his lifeless heart. He went so far as to look through Bokuto’s one scrapbook hidden in a chest underneath the bed in hopes of finding pictures that would make him realize how silly and childish Koutarou was, but those silly and childish photographs (curtesy of Kuroo’s mother, it seemed like) only made the ache of affection inside his energy burn wildly. The picture of he and Kuroo on Halloween made him smile, the picture of Bokuto sticking his head inside a dirt hole made him laugh, the picture of Bokuto sleeping on Kuroo’s couch with his hair messed-up made him want to cry…Akaashi came to the conclusion that forcing away whatever feelings he had for the witch would not be so easily persuaded to go away.

After giving-up on those attempts, Keiji sat on the couch and watched Disney Channel, wishing he could eat his sorrows away like a human would. Bokuto scared the living daylights out of him by throwing the door open loudly, a little before the ghost expected him to be home.

“AKAASHEE!!!” Koutarou shouted cheerfully, slamming the door behind him. “Whatcha doing?!”

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi huffed in surprise, gathering himself quickly. “What are you doing home?”

“Daishou got annoyed with Kuroo and I, so he let me go home early, and then I had dinner with Kuroo quick!”

“That’s… _nice_ , I suppose, but…don’t you kind of need that money?”

“It’s okay, Suguru said he would pay me as long as I took Kuroo with me!” Bokuto answered happily, throwing his coat on the back of the couch before plopping down beside the spirit casually. “So! What did you do all day, Kaashi?”

 _Silently monologued to myself about you_ , Akaashi answered silently, giving only a shrug.

“Not much. I cleaned the bathroom and hung your towel up to dry.”

“Wow, really?!”

“Well it wasn’t going to get dry lying on the floor.”

Bokuto found his disgusting bathroom habits amusing and let out a barking laugh; the noise stirred something within the ghost’s void chest again, and he went so far as to press his hand over the spot as Koutarou slid the messenger bag off his shoulder while becoming serious.

“You wanna see what I have in my bag?”

_That’s an odd question to ask._

“If you find whatever’s in there interesting, I suppose.”

“It’s super interesting!” Bokuto nodded, hurriedly reaching inside. “I found it i—”

Akaashi followed those golden eyes as the witch cut off his sentence; he was staring at the TV, trying to figure out which Disney movie was on.

“Twitches Too.” Keiji answered before he could ask. Bokuto’s love for Disney was admirable.

“Oh—cool! Anyway, like I was saying,” The student continued. “When I was in the back room today, I was looking for some potions when I found _this_.”

Bokuto’s large hands cradled a dark purple, menacing potion that screamed danger to Akaashi as he leaned forward on the couch, trying to ignore how close to the other this made him. The liquid danced around inside the container like smoke, daring someone to open and unleash its power; Keiji was both frightened and intrigued by this discovery, carefully running a fingertip along the smooth surface holding whatever this was back.

“Isn’t it totally weird?”

“It’s very strange indeed. I wonder…hold on.”

“What?”

“You…took this from the supply room where you work?” Keiji realized, narrow eyebrow raising in disapproval.

“I’m going to give it back if it’s not dangerous, Akaashi, I promise!!!” Bokuto cried.

“That’s still shoplifting, Bokuto-san.”

“I know, I know, and I feel really guilty about it, but _look_!” The witch pointed at the bottle. “No labels _anywhere_. Every potion is supposed to have a label and a list of ingredients. This one doesn’t have anything, which is illegal, so I can’t figure out why we have it in the shop.”

“Are there others like this one?” Akaashi asked, taking the object from him cautiously. “Surely Suguru-san knows what it does…”

“I’m too afraid to ask him. But…there might be another way…”

The grey-haired student jumped off the couch suddenly, sprinting to the hallway as if racing someone.

“Stay right there, Akaashi!”

Koutarou returned with one of his previously infamous spell books titled Potio & Venena, _Potions & Poisons_; the witch seemed all too happy to have found this dark piece of literature as he jumped over the back of the couch, a big smile etched onto his features.

“This might help us! It has an entire index of all different types of potions and poisons—maybe I can use one of my other spells to find an illustration to match this potion!”

“Worth a try.”

“But let’s wait for a commercial break!” Bokuto exclaimed suddenly. He became sheepish right after, but Akaashi confirmed this with a nod.

“Right. We don’t want to miss the movie.”

“R-Right!”

Bokuto settled into his spot comfortably, turning his attention to the movie while simultaneously keeping an eye on how dangerously close the ghost’s arm was to brushing over his own; it would have been romantic as hell, accidentally touching while watching a Disney Channel Halloween marathon, but Koutarou wasn’t sure where the boundaries for romance laid between them, and so made certain his arm stayed firmly put, hand wrapped around the potion book. Akaashi didn’t seem to notice, anyway, too intrigued by _Twitches Too_ for anything remotely adorable to happen between them—humans were the most idiotic of creatures, but they did make some great movies. Ironically enough, the characters happened to be speaking about love, unintentionally making Bokuto’s cheeks blush.

_“He was funny, sweet, and strong,” Miranda explained fondly. “I was just about your age when I meet him at the Winter Festival. Ended up dancing the whole night together, and when it was over he said he wanted to give me a present so I'd remember him forever. I could pick whatever I wanted.”_

_“What did you ask for?” Camryn asked eagerly._

_“A star, from the North sky.”_

_Miranda noticed her daughter’s confusion and suddenly lifted her hand: an actual star balanced over the palm of her hand, shining brighter than the girls ever imagined._

_“It's a real star,” Alex raved in amazement._

_“Good gift!”_

_“I never told anyone that story. It was our secret…”_

“This sequel is one of the better ones from Disney,” Bokuto interrupted with a nod. “Their evil uncle returns from the Shadowlands, their father’s shadow is in peril, the twins have to join together during an eclipse, when they’re both at their most powerful—it’s perfect!”

“No spoilers,” Akaashi mumbled, though his tone wasn’t irritated. “I haven’t seen this one yet.”

“Well it’s a commercial now, so we better get cracking on this potion so we don’t miss any scenes!”

Bokuto hurriedly sat straighter and opened the potion book, cracking his knuckles as a sign of readiness; just before he dove in, however, the witch realized he didn’t know what spell to use. Keiji watched him struggle for a long minute, partially for entertainment, partially to admire the student’s pouting face.

“Well?” The ghost questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“I…don’t know which spell I should use,” Koutarou admitted in a mumble, scratching his head in thought. “There’s a couple different ones used for finding objects, but I might need a more specific spell to locate a picture or a phrase…maybe I need that other book…no no, that one wouldn’t help…the gold one, maybe? That one’s actually kinda useless, but maybe it ha—”

A blearing, ear-bleeding noise suddenly blasted through the TV speakers, making the witch (whose hearing was sensitive due to elevated senses) cover his ears wildly and the spirit sitting beside him flinch from surprise; the screen flashed to one of an emergency alert, red background with big black lettering following that horrible sound. Bokuto and Akaashi turned their upmost attention to the words slowly appearing on the screen, read by a monotone recorded voice as it warned all Japanese residents of an emergency—last time one of these warnings was issued, a huge ass earthquake had erupted in the middle of Japan.

Bokuto remembered that well, and yet, when this particular piece of news was read, it seemed much, much worse.

 

“ _This is not a drill. The Japan National Protective Service (JNPS) has issued a temporary law concerning magic and magical beings, to be officially confirmed as law on October 21 st, 2018, 12:00 A.M., as a manner of public urgency. Law #182 declares that any being practicing magic, such as witchcraft or paganism, creatures who contain magic ability such as witches and seers of any kind are to be reported to local police and consequently arrested as dangers to society. Those accused and taken into custody will receive fair trial treatment, but are likely to suffer execution or lengthy prison terms on account of their abilities if found guilty. Anyone hiding these creatures will be tried separately. Magical beings will furthermore be labeled as dangerous creatures, definition to be found at your nearest public library. This law will stand until the first day of November, and the outcome and continuation of this protection will be determined based on success rates throughout October. That concludes this urgent message. Please stand-by for your program to continue_.”

 

Akaashi was stunned to total silence, energy freezing in time, body temperature dropping drastically as the words caught-up to his mind—that wasn’t right. That was a prank, right? Someone hacked into the broadcasting system just to scare people? After the initial disbelief, Keiji’s energy changed, swirling around the room with fury, anger, hatred for humans, their fear that drove them to injure others, to strip them of their identities—but his reaction was _nothing_ compared to Bokuto’s.

Somehow, in such a short amount of time after the emergency alerted ended, the witch found himself huddled in the corner of the living room. Japan and the rest of the world came crashing down over his head, releasing blow after blow until he was trembling from head to toe, all his worst fears realized in a moment of innocence ruined; his mother was surely laughing from underneath the floorboards, or maybe she was the one behind this, infecting others with whatever hellish spell she had always been under. Bokuto couldn’t breathe, could hardly think, couldn’t begin to fathom how severe the situation was—and he didn’t want to. Koutarou was lost to the world, becoming so wrapped-up in memories and flashes of torture he became unaware that words were escaping his fluttering lips in terrified whispers.

“Don’t wanna…d-don’t wanna die…didn’t…didn’t d-do anything…I’m scared…I’m _scared_ …Mommy…help, I’m s-cared...”

“They can’t do that!” Akaashi hissed, speaking fiercely as he stood and hurriedly rushed over to the witch. “Bokuto-san—no government in the _entire world_ has the power to push through a temporary law damning a specific practice. It’s not possible. It’s completely unconstitutional, and the public will be outraged…”

Everything the intelligent and wise Akaashi Keiji said was absolutely true—but it was also very false. The government _had_ passed this temporary law. They _had_ discriminated against magic users. The public probably was outraged, at first, but would probably warm-up to the law when all the anti-magic politicians spoke their support…and besides; Bokuto wasn’t listening to the ghost, anyway. His heart was lost in a dark maze of hatred and fear, memories of every bad thing his mother ever said replaying at the forefront of his mind, further injuring him by reacting to these images with physical pain where scars now laid on his body. His cheek hurt, his fingers burned, his eyes stung, his hands ached, his wrists felt bruised—

_“You heated this…with magic?”_

_“W-Well, I know you only like it at a certain temperature, a-and since the machine made it cold after a few minutes, I ju—”_

_Slap!_

Akaashi was grabbing at Bokuto’s arms, trying to gently pull them off where they were basically glued to the witch’s knees pressed against his chest, but the divination student wasn’t cooperating. The entire country would come for him. They would find out, somehow, and come after him, run him to the ends of the earth, burn him alive, just like his mother wished for.

_“I can’t believe this is what my life has come to,” Bokuto listened as his mother laughed sorrowfully at the kitchen table. She had some kind of drink in her cup, ignoring her son’s presence all together as he washed the dishes quietly behind her. “What did I ever do to deserve…this.”_

_She motioned with her hands, mostly referring to Bokuto and their shabby house._

_“Hahaaa…sneaky little witches with their seductive, evil ways,” She snorted, liquid dribbling off her poisonous lips. “Where would I be, had not that wretched man come into my life? …Hm…how I wonder…”_

_The spikey-haired boy stepped off the stool and wiped his hands dry before hesitantly approaching his mother’s left side; he stood with his hands fidgeting in front of him, eyes looking up despite the rest of his submissive posture._

_“Mom? I finished the dishes…may I go to sleep, now?” He asked in a careful whisper._

_“I don’t care,” The woman huffed. “Go. Leave me be, little devil.”_

“Bokuto-san. Please listen to me.”

“Scared…I want…w-want my grandma…”

Everything hurt. Koutarou’s head was spinning in several different directions as he sat up rigid against the wall, never able to focus on what was right in front of him, no matter how much Akaashi pleaded or spoke. This was the final solution, the beginning of magical extinction, starting with a lazy college student named Bokuto whose best friend was a demonologist and whose roommate was a _ghost_ —obviously someone knew what he was. They were coming after him with force, using political power to manipulate the system, to end the magic once and for all; maybe it was Suguru. Maybe Kuroo _did_ remember his best friend’s abilities and told Suguru about their adventures…maybe Daishou’s father knew, too, and used his pow—

The apartment atmosphere changed drastically when a chilled pair of cold lips came in contact with Bokuto’s.

Despite his wide golden eyes having been open the entire fit, Koutarou only now saw what laid before him: his body was right in its assumptions. Akaashi was sitting on his knees, leaned over the witch’s legs with his lips pressed against Bokuto’s in a soft, reassuring kiss, only the third of the divination student’s entire life; the first was accidentally with Kuroo, the second was with a cute girl named Yukie in first grade, and now…Akaashi, his ghostly roommate in college. Koutarou returned to reality in a flash, the pain still present inside his chest, but dimmed by whatever kind feeling this created within his heart. The dark-haired boy knew not what he was doing, relying on movies and TV to guide his actions in bringing Bokuto back from whatever horrible circle of hell his state of mind was stuck in. The act was quickly draining all his energy on account of the emotional effect it had on the witch (and the ghost himself), so once Keiji was sure his friend returned to apartment 4B, heart and all, he breathlessly took his lips away, hand going to cover his mouth with mild surprise. Certainly, this was not how he expected the night to go…

Bokuto’s wild eyes were still panicked, but now mixed with subtle confusion over what just happened; Akaashi swallowed his nerves down and tried to remember why he kissed the witch in the first place.

“…Can you hear me, Bokuto-san?” The ghost asked, voice shaking as more energy drained from his form.

The grey-haired man paused, then nodded once, breath uneven.

“Okay…let’s go to bed, alright?”

Koutarou nodded again, muscles still trembling as Keiji helped him stumble to his shaking legs, practically tripping his way down the hall and onto the bed, where the spirit motioned for him to lie down. Bokuto did so tiredly on top of the covers, fear replacing confused bliss when he remembered the red screen, that evil monotone voice rushing back to him violently, along with the sensation of hopelessness to go with the sudden darkness of the bedroom.

“L-Light!” The witch gasped.

“I’ll light the candles before I leave,” Akaashi hushed gently, throwing the quilt he snatched over Bokuto’s shivering body. “Go to sleep, now. I’ll return in the morning.”

“C-Come…back…”

“I will, Bokuto-san. I promise.”

The college student nodded shakily, eyes slipping shut just as Akaashi’s figure faded from view, replacing his image with the light of several candles scattered throughout the room, illuminating different areas with various colors. It would have been pretty, had not the horror of being hunted down and imprisoned flooded Bokuto’s heart and soul…Akaashi must have left some kind of sleepy spell over the witch’s mind, because the world around him was fading quickly, the mattress seeming more comfy than usual—

 

Or maybe the shock from the amount of fear in Tokyo was what forced Bokuto into a deep, dark slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm a couple hours early again but I don't want to keep you guys waiting in anticipation all day while waiting for my lunch break so I can post...
> 
> yeet
> 
> have a good day! -bodhi


	7. Evil Eye

_Tuesday, October 23 rd_

Bokuto was not having a good day.

 

October was painful enough during normal years, but now with every person in the entirety of Tokyo talking about the magic ban, every corner and every conversation added to the agony. Koutarou tried to stay in the safety of his apartment and _Ghoulish_ , but Suguru couldn’t stop himself from talking about the new law every few hours or so; he said his father was upset at the news, while he himself was indifferent. Never the less, the store was required to hang-up warning posters telling of the new law on the window of _Ghoulish_ , matching every other shop down the entire block. The reminder of just how severely fear controlled minds was constant—the witch felt worse than ever about himself and almost forgot about the potion he stole from the back room, neglecting it for the rest of the weekend which he spent pouting and hiding under the covers. Predictably, Bokuto did not want to face divination class today (he heard they would now be supervised by the owner of the college for the remainder of October) and decided to skip like all the other boozers in his class. There was no way in hell he could ever slip past the radar of Sensei Washijo _and_ Tokyo Terror’s CEO—if they asked him a simple question he would probably blurt out his entire life’s problem and be imprisoned. Kuroo would hate him, Akaashi would stay at the apartment wondering why the witch never came back…to avoid that, Bokuto volunteered to work with Daishou at _Ghoulish_ for the day. At the very least, snake boy didn’t seem to be severely pro-choice over the new law.

“I mean, spending years thinking over a new law is one thing, but sending one out _temporarily_ in the case of a social emergency?” Suguru said mostly to himself while handing Koutarou a rack of costumes to put out. The witch was going through the motions as well as able. “That seems a little risky to me. What do you think, Bokuto?”

 _I think that old lady looked at me funny this morning_ , the grey-haired student thought with paranoia. _She had a weird expression on her face…like she knew something. She had an evil eye charm, too, and I swore she moved it in my direction after I walked by! Oh my god. She knows. I’m going to be ratted out by a little old lady? That’s no fun! I can’t handle the betrayal of an elderly woman!_

“Bokuto.”

“W-What?!” The witch flinched, looking around wildly. His boss made a face while Bokuto tried to figure out what they were talking about.

“You’re a little out of it today. Sleep okay last night?” Suguru asked suspiciously.

“Uh…not really. Sorry, I’m just…exhausted.”

“Hm.”

Bokuto didn’t like the suspicious noise Kuroo’s step brother made. He followed the narrow-hipped young man with careful eyes, watching while Daishou walked over and scanned the wall of evil eye charms; there were no customers in the shop, prompting the richer boy to begin a conversation, one he couldn’t speak of while superstitious old ladies were running around their domain.

“You know, Bokuto,” Suguru hummed mysteriously. “I’ve never experienced any type of magic, evil or non-evil, but lately I’ve been feeling on edge whenever I enter the shop. Despite our walls of charms meant to keep away dangerous creatures, some still seem to _slip_ through the cracks like snakes.”

 _You’re telling me_.

“It’s very important for us to stay on guard; two so-called witches have already been arrested, I heard, and in order to keep our press clean for business…we must keep ourselves safe from any harm, should that attachment break off into the shop and infect others.”

Daishou’s long fingers reached out and selected a blue narzar from the wall, carefully cradling the object in his palm while strolling back over to Bokuto. The store owner only looked up when he got within a foot of Koutarou, who gulped nervously but tried not to show it; those slitted dark eyes stared intently at the student before holding the narzar out in his direction.

“Take this,” Suguru offered. “Consider it your Halloween gift. Maybe it’ll help you sleep better at night, hm?”

Bokuto looked down at the shining blue teardrop hesitantly, quickly trying to decipher whether or not this was some kind of trap; was there a camera hidden inside? Was it actually cursed? Did it have an offending smell or something? Not sensing anything amiss (other than the strangely timed “kindness” of his usually snotty boss), Koutarou accepted the gift and gently took the narzar from those snake-like fingers, nodding in gratitude.

“Thanks, Suguru.”

“Don’t mention it. Actually, mention it to my beloved brother, would you? He can take example of my kindness.”

Before Bokuto could devise a response to that comment, the shop was loudly overcome by violent noises outside passing by on the sidewalk. That horrible feeling in Koutarou’s stomach told him it couldn’t be anything good. Sure enough, when he and Suguru hurried over to the front door and peered out, there was a small group of protesters marching with signs—the signs all had different warnings towards witches and other magical users, just as Bokuto feared. Burn the witch…Sweep the streets…Protect “Normal”…the grey-haired young man managed to read all the signs with burning eyes as they stormed by, shouting to other citizens with fierce expressions. It felt as if Tokyo had traveled back in time to the dark ages, where angry civilians were law, where they killed and executed hoping to solve all their problems only for nothing to improve after the fact. However, that idea still scared the living hell out of Bokuto, since those types of people always seemed to get away with murdering innocent victims.

It seemed that evil never skipped a generation, and torture methods always came back around in a never-ending cycle.

“How wonderful,” Suguru hissed in annoyance. “The Salem Witch Trials have come to Tokyo.”

“W-Why are people so worked-up about magic?” Bokuto dared to say, voice shockingly steady as they watched the protesters march past the shop. “I haven’t heard about any violent incidents recently…”

“My father says there’s a few politicians who keep bringing-up old stories to inflict fear on the people,” Daishou explained, frowning at the window. “They keep reminding people about the first incidents from the 90’s—you know, like the Shiratorizawa seers, that college student getting hit by a car, the witch child from Aoba J—”

“Akaashi Keiji?” The thicker man clarified shakily, shrinking behind Daishou when the protesters finally passed.

“Yeah, that kid. Anyway, it’s all a bunch of mumbo jumbo to me, but as long as it’s good for business, I could care less, you know?”

If Kuroo were here he probably would have decked Suguru for that comment, but Bokuto could do no such thing, and remained standing where he was as Daishou went off into the back room. The window hardly seemed like a strong protective dome around the witch, fearing the protesters would sniff him out and come barreling inside the shop, breaking through effortlessly in an attempt to clean the streets of magical beings. Koutarou still couldn’t actually believe what was happening—wasn’t it 2018? Why did fear still control every single mind in the world? Hadn’t they realized that by now? Why did those who performed evil fail to be punished while the rest of their kind suffers when they were innocent? Why were groups punished for actions an individual did? Bokuto suffered in these unanswerable questions all day long, jumping whenever the front door opened, whenever an object fell off its shelf, whenever the customers spoke about the new temporary law…it was a miracle no one confronted him, what with the witch’s jittery nerves, anxious tones when talking of magic, overall depressed aura—Daishou figured this was regular Bokuto behavior and thought nothing of it, happy their business flourished because of Tokyo’s superstitions over witches and the evil eye. Koutarou kept his new narzar in his pocket the entire day, and luckily, they were kept busy enough where time went quickly, and before they knew it, _Ghoulish_ was closing for the night. Halloween parties were already taking place at a few offices, the demonologist party right around the corner, and Daishou mentioned that he found one to attend tomorrow night; one of his old high school friends was throwing one in the middle of a forest outside Tokyo. Bokuto thought that seemed risky, what with all the attention on suspicious behavior, but if his boss wanted to get drunk in a slutty Halloween costume in the middle of the woods, that was his decision.

The pair said their farewells and headed separate ways, Suguru heading down the darker street while Koutarou remained on the heavily decorated main street of Tokyo, thoughts distracting him from admiring all the pretty lights. _What do I do if I run into those protesters?_ The divination student thought worriedly, biting his lip anxiously. _Will they know? Will they want me to join? Would they be suspicious if I ran away? I don’t know, I don’t know…maybe I’ll just piss my pants. That would excuse me from the conversation, right?_

_This is too stressful. I can’t do this._

Bokuto suddenly stopped right where he was, eyes recognizing what part of the street he was standing over—he recognized it from his own memories, and from the newspaper article photographs talking about the tragic death of college student Akaashi Keiji. Raising his head, the witch saw the infamous _Crow’s Nest_ library that used to be just a library from his view; it sat across the street quietly, a few lights on inside as it watched over the crosswalk leading away from its front door, stretching to where Bokuto stood now. What horrors this library had watched over the years, unable to prevent tragedy, unable to do anything but remember the crime scene, the sorrow that followed…Bokuto felt bad for this large building, how it could never move, could never close its eyes or ignore whatever chaos surrounded the area. He also felt bad for Akaashi, who just wanted to know more about magic, how it worked, how wonderous it was…while he did his best to show the ghost that, he knew it would never be enough. Keiji saw as much magic as he would ever receive during the last moments of his life.

Koutarou was starting to understand the hatred behind the protester’s signs.

_“This is Halloween, this is Halloween, pumpkins scream in the dead of night—”_

The voice of his best friend greeted the witch as he slowly answered his phone, bringing it up to his ear while still staring at the offending crosswalk.

“Yo. You just get off work?” Kuroo asked.

“Mhm.”

“Snake slut give you a hard time?”

“Yeah…”

“Figures. Did you skip class today? I didn’t see you and you didn’t answer my texts.”

“Didn’t feel like dealing with the fascist comments from Sensei Washijo,” Bokuto mumbled, turning away and continuing his walk home with a heavy heart.

“Good call. I’m proud of you, Bo—you’ve never skipped class for as long as I’ve known you. You’re really moving up in the world! Hey…did you hear that emergency alert on the TV last night?”

Bokuto froze in position, heart stopping as the fear of all good memories becoming tainted hit him right in the chest like a silver bullet.

“Y-Y-Yeah?”

The witch held his breath tightly, terrified that this crucial moment had arrived at such a sudden time; he didn’t have time to prepare for the loss of his best friend, not now, not when everything was going to hell already…if Kuroo left him during this time because of his hatred for magical users, who did he have left? Surely he would die. Kuroo would figure out why Bokuto wasn’t speaking to him anymore and turn him in. That was the least of the witch’s concerns, however, because no jail time could amount to the grief in Koutarou’s heart caused by the loss of his best and only friend since before pre-k. All his happiest, best memories would be blackened, manipulated forever after the magical reveal caused Kuroo to admit his hatred for Bokuto—and without those memories (most the cat man didn’t even remember, since they involved Koutarou’s magic), the divination student would be nothing.

While Bokuto knew it was wrong to say, he would be dead if he didn’t have Kuroo. His dependency on the demonologist caused by abuse from his mother, the one person in the world he was supposed to trust, caused him to go great lengths on the subject of loyalty, and if that sole individual he depended on for happiness was taken out of the picture…it wouldn’t be pretty. The witch would essentially be a drug addict put on the cold turkey diet during the midst of a hurricane. And so, Bokuto listened eagerly and regretfully for Tetsurou to continue the conversation, hoping that, at the very least, his best friend’s reaction wouldn’t involve violence.

He waited only a frightening ten-seconds before Tetsurou spoke.

“Man, isn’t that just horrible?” Kuroo began lowly.

Bokuto’s eyes went wide with tears immediately.

“How do we still live in a world where all the idiots from every insignificant country are somehow our so-called leaders? It can’t be fucking legal to temporary legalize persecution against people who do magic! I was so pissed when I found out I actually called the Tokyo senate number and left them a nasty voicemail. But they can’t arrest me if I called from a payphone, right?”

A couple different people gave Bokuto worried glances as they walked by, noticing the tears streaming down his face and the blubbering noises he failed to hide behind his scarf. Kuroo needed a minute to realize those strange squeaks were coming from the speaker on his phone.

“Um…Bo? You alright?”

“Mhm!” The witch sobbed with relief. “I g-otta g-go—t- _thanks_ , K-uroo.”

“Um…yeah, you’re welcome. Text you later.”

“Y-Yeah! Later!”

When Bokuto hung-up, it felt like a demon had been exorcised from his body, leaving behind a lightweight college student with no more worries. All the stress, all the concerns about being discovered were momentarily put to rest; he should have known Kuroo wouldn’t be so heartless. Why didn’t he have more faith in his friend? Kuroo _always_ felt sympathy for people—it was one of his best qualities. Why would he change now, in the midst of his demonologist degree and fun times with the dorky owl kid he had known since they were babies? Bokuto felt shitty for having such little belief in Kuroo’s morals, but couldn’t help the happy, breathless little laughs that left his lips as he continued his walk home, mood a bit brighter than it had been in what seemed like forever. Part of Koutarou wanted to reward Tetsurou by going right to his dorm room and admitting his status as a witch, but he figured he had enough social interaction for one day and headed home, where his ghostly friend Akaashi was waiting. The sky was already dark, so the witch jogged most of the way to avoid a mental breakdown that would probably result in his magic spurting out again; he made it home to the silent apartment complex (where he had still seen no neighbors creeping about) and entered 4B quietly, as to not disturb whatever Akaashi was doing.

“Akaashee? Are you here?” Bokuto called, hanging-up his jacket.

“Right here,” A haunting voice replied from the living room. Koutarou released a quick sigh and followed Akaashi’s voice, spotting him on the couch surrounded by spell books belonging to his roommate. The books triggered a negative response within Bokuto, but he managed to keep his body from tensing up too much while waiting for an explanation. Keiji gave him the most stressed expression Koutarou had ever seen from him before, hurriedly shutting the spell book he held and setting it aside.

“Ah, sorry—I was just trying to…study. I’ll put these away—”

“That’s okay,” Bokuto stopped him calmly, going so far as to walk over and plop down on the couch beside the spirit, who was surrounded by piles of noir-styled spell books. “I might look at them later, anyway…”

Akaashi was surprised by this statement, as his roommate hadn’t so much as glanced at the books since the magic ban alert a few days ago, but none the less allowed Bokuto to sit beside him. The spikey-haired man slouched tiredly, watching the muted TV screen for a while as Akaashi closed the other books and pushed them aside; Koutarou’s aura was strange today, maybe on account of his guilt over skipping class, but the feeling Keiji investigated wasn’t exactly _unhappy_. Before he could ask the toned young man how his day was, the witch prompted a conversation entirely out of the blue.

“Hey Akaashi?”

“Hm?”

Koutarou fiddled with his thick fingers, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Have you ever, like…been in _love_ with someone?”

If the ghost had saliva inside his mouth, he would have choked on it; instead, his lips simply sputtered for a moment as he tried to stop those warm jolts of energy from bursting out into the room, thus, giving away his secret crush on the living being inside apartment 4B. To avoid that, Akaashi didn’t say a single word, letting Bokuto continue with another sentence that shook Keiji to his frozen core.

“I’m in love with Kuroo.”

The dark-haired boy couldn’t stop himself from turning his head with shock, eyes widening and darkening from a deep, broken emotion that overwhelmed his energy like a shadow, disrupting the flow of the living room as Bokuto’s own expression jumped wildly. Akaashi didn’t understand why he reacted in such a way—that simple sentence had affected him just like _death_ had. How was that possible? Why did that happen? Ghosts weren’t supposed to be hurt by the living, were they?

“I—I mean, not—not like _that_!!!” The witch practically _screamed_ , making Akaashi wince out of his funk. “Not in a romantic way at all!!!! I _swear_ , I just—I just meant—I just love him in a _friend_ type of way, which I was wondering about because—because he’s not family, but I was wondering if it was possible to love someone as a friend outside of your family, kinda like a sibling, but not really, and—and— _don’t tell him I said that!!!_ ”

As the witch wailed under his breath, tugging on his wild hair like a madman, Akaashi struggled in his own sense, trying to shake off whatever relief he felt at Koutarou _not_ being in love with his best friend. _Why do I feel better, now?_ Keiji thought, squeezing his nails into his palm, only to feel nothing. _I shouldn’t feel better about Bokuto-san saying he isn’t in love…I should be encouraging him, if he secretly loves Kuroo in a romantic way._

 _But you don’t want to_ , a darker voice whispered. Akaashi glared and sent the voice away, believing it to be a demon Tetsurou brought back with him. Bokuto was still talking, trying to convince both himself and the ghost he wasn’t in love with his best friend who was like a brother to him.

“I mean…Kuroo’s handsome and all, but I’ve never felt that way towards him, not even when we accidentally had our first kiss together in the forest! It was an accident…we agreed to never do it again, and I never wanted to kiss him after that, either, so there.” Koutarou sighed again, rubbing his face aggressively as if the act would squeeze the foolishness out of him. “Um…sorry. Sorry I asked. I didn’t mean to get all weird…”

“To answer your first question, Bokuto-san,” Keiji said slowly, catching the breath he never had in the first place. “During my time in your world, I never…felt strong romantic emotions towards another person outside of my family. But I do understand the depth of your feelings, if you’re currently in love with someone.”

“Oh. So…you never, like…dated anyone?”

“No.” _Why do I get the feeling I would be blushing right now, if I were still alive?_

“Wow,” Bokuto huffed in surprise, confusing Akaashi. “That’s…strange. You’d think everyone would be all over you, since you were like, a super handsome smarty-pants…”

“There were some empty offers at romance, if I remember correctly, but…” What were the right words to use here? “I guess…none of the people who offered interested me. Not that I thought myself above them—”

“They just didn’t make you excited like your studies did, right?” Bokuto clarified.

“Right,” Keiji nodded, surprised at the college student’s perception. “…Not…Not that I had a homework fetish or anything.”

“…Right.”

The witch tried covering-up his snort, but it snuck out under his breath, making Akaashi crack a smile, making Koutarou bend over laughing into his knees at how awkward this conversation had turned. But weren’t all conversations with Bokuto somewhat awkward? Keiji loved talking with him, of course, loved the warm energy surrounding him…this was the first time the ghost had the honor of hearing Koutarou laugh so hard, and admitted this was also something he loved. Bokuto’s wide eyes crinkled shut when he laughed while his loud mouth remained open, an almost creepy cackling sound exploding out; Akaashi could practically see the muscles underneath the witch’s shirt rippling in time with the laughs, and had a strange desire to see them without clothing covering—

_No. Those are demonic thoughts. Don’t go there, Keiji._

“Oh man!” Bokuto chuckled, recovering from his fit after a few minutes. “You’re hilarious, Akaashee. What other fetishes do you have?! _Textbooks_?!”

The ghost was positive his warm energy gave away the fact that he was blushing, despite the color in his pale cheeks not changing; Koutarou laughed even harder at this, and another five-minutes passed before they found themselves calm enough to continue their previously deep conversation from before. All the while, Akaashi couldn’t help but forget his own laughter and focus on the way his roommate held himself together at the seams by rocking back and forth on the couch, forgetting his troubles and doubts as he laughed and laughed like a child. Immaturity was a good look on Bokuto. Akaashi hadn’t known many people who could pull it off. The automatic pumpkin lights on the TV set turned on, giving an almost romantic lighting to their current position on the couch—Bokuto didn’t seem to notice, but the room temperature became warmer and warmer as the conversation continued.

“Anyway,” The witch smiled, face heated from the painful laughter. “I was just wondering about that stuff, and I figured you know more about love than I do, so…I just wanted to ask you about it. You know, before we started laughing at fetishes.”

“I see,” Keiji nodded, a hidden smile on his lips while he adjusted his sitting position. “I’m afraid I can’t help much in that category, though; I’m sure you’re more knowledge than I, what with your _brotherly_ relationship with Kuroo-san.”

Bokuto blushed this time around, and Akaashi pretended like he hadn’t meant to cause that reaction.

“It _is_ brotherly—but…that’s the only type of love I know about. I’ve never really had a girlfriend or boyfriend, you know, caus’ I’m…yeah. You at least had offers, so that must’ve given you some experience—besides! You’ve lived a lot longer than me, so you’ve seen romance through the ages.”

“Even so, I wouldn’t classify myself as a love expert.” The dark-haired boy shrugged. “I only knew love through my parents, which makes us both experienced in the family category.”

Predictably, Koutarou looked away and seemed to back-out of the conversation at the mention of family; while Akaashi didn’t want to press the extremely stressed witch, he needed to know more about his roommate if they wanted to address the current ban on magic. Bokuto wasn’t willing to fight against this law, despite his renewed love of magic; Keiji wanted to change that, but his lack of understanding on the divination student’s past prevented him from doing so. He knew the owl man was terrified of the dark, didn’t like closets, didn’t care for vegetables, loved Kuroo like a brother (even though the latter was seemingly unaware of his bestie’s magical abilities), and had a certain desperation for friendships, even if it meant acting unlike how he usually would. Akaashi noticed all this, yes, but the source of Bokuto’s co-dependency on others and his submissive tendencies was crucial in really understanding the thick-bodied young man. Therefore, when Koutarou tried stepping away from the conversation, Akaashi pressed him gently.

“Bokuto-san.”

“Yeah?” The other replied tensely, knowing what was to come.

“I want you to explain something to me,” The spirit requested softly. “Are you willing?”

“I…guess so. If…If it’ll help Akaashee, I’ll answer anything!”

_There it is again: the pathetic, but endearing desire to please everyone._

“I don’t want to make you upset, Bokuto-san,” Keiji clarified, daring to place a cold hand on the other’s strong forearm. “Bear with me, okay?”

“…Okay.”

“What was your relationship like with your family?”

 

The apartment was silent for a long moment before the gentle flow of water fell out with the opening of the dam.

 

“…It was only my mom and I,” Bokuto admitted in a hushed voice, a sad little smile on his lips. “My grandmother lived near us for a while and helped out, since my dad wasn’t in the picture. I don’t know if he ever found out he has a child, but anyway…my grandmother passed away, and then it was just me and my mom.”

Akaashi hummed, aware his hand was still on Koutarou’s arm.

“I used to practice magic in the forest with Kuroo, because I thought it was normal, you know, but after a while…my mom made it clear that people like me were not meant to be.”

“Bokuto-san,” Keiji interjected again, voice even. “Was your mother abusive because of your magical abilities?”

Was that her reasoning for locking him in the hallway closet, pricking the tips of his fingers, attempting to burn his spell books and forcing her son to wipe Kuroo’s memories containing Bokuto’s magic? Did she really have solid reasons, or was it all a sick game to her, an attempt of revenge at whatever warlock had failed to warn her of their abilities before sleeping with her? But maybe that was partly her fault, too. Still…was bitterness enough reason to abuse her only child?

The owlish man nodded shortly, pushing away the hurtful memories.

“I’m sure she had a few other reasons, but that was the main one.” Koutarou confirmed. “Um…s-she…she usually just…”

“You don’t have to go into details, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said quietly, giving his arm a light squeeze. “I can already feel your level of pain—I understand.”

“But…I _want_ to…tell you.”

The spirit couldn’t hide his surprised expression, watching as the divination student struggled with his words, wanting to tell Keiji all about his trust for the other, the build-up of negative residue inside his heart from keeping everything to himself over the years. He wanted and _needed_ to tell someone—Kuroo had put the puzzle pieces together for himself, what with his best friend’s nightmares, PTSD incidents and overall submissive demeanor, but now…Bokuto had the opportunity to really tell someone what his childhood was like. He had the chance to expose all his suffering, the mental scarring and emotional turmoil that changed him from a competitive, fun-loving kid to a jumpy, superstitious student of divination.

Didn’t he deserve the chance to tell Akaashi what he used to be like?

“…I’m listening,” Keiji offered gently.

“I was _so_ good at magic, Akaashee,” Bokuto explained with a spark in his eyes. “Not in a Lord Voldemort way, but in a Newt Scamander way. I practiced every day during the summer with Kuroo and every day after school when spring came around; he was my test subject for most spells. By the time I was six, I could do every single spell in the levitation book! Even when my mom got mad at me and started to punish me whenever she caught me doing magic, I just couldn’t stop. I didn’t really have a goal in mind, but I know I wanted to be able to effortlessly perform every spell in every one of the books I had.”

“Where did you find the spell books? Surely your mother didn’t give them to you.”

“My grandma bought them and hid them from my mother,” Koutarou smiled. “She actually helped me practice when I was super young—that’s probably why I was able to do so many by the time I was seven. But um…my mom……well…she always knew I practiced behind her back. At first, all she did was try to burn my books and maybe gave me a few smacks here and there, b-but…” Bokuto swallowed nervously, feeling his energy droop at the memories. “Once I turned five…I guess you could say she upped her punishments.”

Akaashi allowed a moment of silence before continuing.

“What did she start doing to you then?” He asked.

“Locked me in the hallway closet,” The witch shrugged, as if that was nothing. “At first, just for a few hours, but the more she caught me, the longer the punishment would be. And…it was pitch dark in there, and since I was so scared I could never control my magic enough to create light, s-so that’s why I hate the dark, now. She would leave me in there for hours and hours, and eventually up to an entire night—…that was the worst. Worse than the pricking of my fingers, worse than trying to drain my magical blood out…”

“You said Kuroo knew of your magic back then,” Keiji interrupted lowly, eyes curious and furious at the same time. “But…he doesn’t remember now, does he?”

Bokuto brought his knees up to his chest while shaking his head sadly.

“No,” He replied. “…And that was the worst punishment of all.”

“Did your mother somehow force him to forget?”

“Even worse—she forced _me_ to make him forget.”

 

_“Bokuto, what’s wrong?! Are you okay?!”_

_Seven-year-old Kuroo hurried towards his friend as they stood in the middle of the forest on a cold October night, only for Bokuto to hold an arm out stiffly, motioning for Tetsurou to stay where he was. Hot tears were streaming down his rosy cheeks as he sniffed, staring at his best friend with a heartbroken expression; Kuroo figured something bad had happened when Koutarou called his house recording a code orange, the worst of all their codes, and the blame immediately fell to Kumori Bokuto._

_“What did she do?” Tetsurou asked fiercely, expression souring. “Did she hit you again?”_

_The shorter of the boys shook his head, though the response wasn’t exactly to that specific question—Bokuto’s mind was slow on account of the other whirlwind of thoughts assaulting his senses, so Kuroo’s words were slurred to him._

_“Bokuto?” Kuroo addressed, voice quiet this time around. “…What’s wrong?”_

_“I’m sorry!” Bokuto sobbed, roughly wiping his puffy eyes._

_“Sorry? Sorry for what?”_

_“I’m sorry!”_

_The black-haired boy didn’t understand what was happening. He didn’t get a moment to consider the matter before Koutarou was hurrying towards him, movements violent and forced as his stubby hands came up suddenly, grabbing hold of Kuroo’s face with intent. Tetsurou grabbed his friend’s wrists on reaction, shocked at the sorrowful expression on the owlish boy’s face—he had seen Bokuto upset and distraught before, but this was on an entirely different level. Tears discolored his usually energetic golden eyes, running down his face all the way to his neck, running like a river of agony._

_“Bokuto…tell me what’s wrong.” Kuroo whispered. His friends’ grip tightened._

_“I’m sorry, Kuroo.” He repeated again. “I’m s-so sorry…”_

_Bokuto closed his eyes and mumbled the spell under his breath, focusing on the memories his palms sought out through their connection to Kuroo’s skin; Tetsurou only had a second to blink before both their bodies were blown back away from each other, backs connecting to the cold, dirty ground of the forest with a humph. Koutarou’s hands sparked with powerful energy, now filled with stolen memories belonging to his best friend who lay ten-feet away from him on the ground, motionless. Bokuto sat up when his head stopped spinning, tears still falling as he watched Kuroo slowly pull his upper body off the dirt—his eyes were dazed, his body confused, but upon connecting with Bokuto’s, the young witch knew he didn’t remember a thing._

_“I’m s-sorry…I’m sorry!”_

 

Koutarou reached out and grabbed the potion he discovered in _Ghoulish’s_ secret potion room as the ghost beside him tried to recover from that horrific story.

“I…I can’t believe this,” Akaashi said to himself, rubbing his temples stressfully. “She took advantage of your powers. She used your passion to destroy your friendship. How could anyone do such a thing, especially to their only child?”

“I never figured that one out,” The grey-haired man shrugged, running a finger over the glass. “But Kuroo and I managed to stick together over the years; I know he’s my best friend caus’ he likes me even though I can’t do magic in front of him anymore—that’s why I said I love him earlier. But not in a homosexual way!”

Keiji huffed over a laugh, mind reeling over the idea of a _child_ erasing his best friend’s memories. He really had been powerful at such a young age—the ghost couldn’t help but wonder again, how great his magic would be, had Bokuto never stopped practicing on account of his mother’s abuse.

“Couldn’t you have just pretended to erase Kuroo’s memories?”

“I’m a shitty liar, remember? Besides…my mom always knew when someone was lying to her. Especially when _I_ was lying to her.”

“Oh.”

Koutarou glanced down at the potion again as Akaashi let this information sink in, a patient silence going over the apartment; hoping the conversation topic would change, the witch grabbed a spell book and began flipping through pages, scanning for a specific phrase that could help him see what magic swam within the purple liquid. Keiji allowed this change, not wanting to push his friend any further into the dark depths of his childhood.

“Did you find a spell that might work?” The ghost asked, slyly scooting closer to Bokuto.

“If I’m powerful enough, yeah,” Bokuto nodded. His expression furrowed in concentration, tongue sticking out as he set the book down on the coffee table. “It’s kinda tricky…but my divination studies should help me out a little.”

“Right—because you’ve been studying very diligently over the past month.”

“I try my best, Akaashee!”

“I know,” Keiji smiled. “For your attention span, you do fairly well.”

The thick-shouldered boy beamed at that, and used his new-found energy to focus on the task ahead—this spell was a difficult one, the Latin thick with meaning, demanding accurate pronunciation in order for every piece to connect with the magic inside Bokuto’s palms. Hopefully, it would give the pair an insight to what deeds this potion was made for, and Koutarou hoped that purpose didn’t involve death or destruction. Knowing Suguru, the chance of that being likely was slim, if the bottle belonged to him in the first place. Akaashi watched in anticipation as Bokuto straightened his posture seriously, tightening his grip on the lower portion of the glass bottle.

“Okay,” The witch sighed deeply. “Let’s see what you’re hiding…”

**_A spell to steal what keepers keep_ ** _: revelet Dues absconsa tua_

_Reveal your secrets._

Bokuto closed his eyes, zeroing in on the abyss that would showcase whatever it was this potion hid. His voice was stern, fierce and calm at the same time as he repeated the spell.

“Revelet Dues absconsa tua.”

Akaashi jolted when the student’s hands went rigid around the bottle, not understanding what happened until he noticed the witch’s eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids, seemingly watching or seeing something the ghost couldn’t. Similar to when Bokuto looked into a glass ball during divination class, the grey-haired boy’s veins trembled with power as dangerous images surged from the glass substance through his arms and into his sight; they were warped and distorted until Koutarou managed to focus all his energy on the scene, catching every gory detail, every intention this potion had—Keiji wondered if he should snap Bokuto out of his spell, as his entire body was trembling, but the moment passed within a split-second, and the witch opened his eyes wildly, breaking the spell hurriedly while almost dropping the potion.

“What did you see?” Keiji asked with concern, composing himself long enough to put a reassuring hand on the other’s shoulder. “Bokuto-san? What did you see?”

“It’s…It’s a _paralyzing_ spell,” Koutarou understood breathlessly, eyes gaping at the evil potion in his hands. Images of falling bodies and tears of hopelessness flashed in his memory. “When inhaled…it paralyzes the victim so the hunter can attack. It…I saw…people falling with purple liquid on their lips. Then…Then they couldn’t move, could hardly breathe, and then someone…came to finish them off.”

“A paralyzing potion—why…how…”

“They couldn’t move,” Bokuto repeated, eyes wide with shock. “When I looked…they couldn’t move. They were helpless.”

Akaashi crossed himself for protection.

“Why does Suguru have this in the shop?” The ghost asked incredulously. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I don’t know. Suguru…he’s always been a sadistic bastard, but—I don’t think…would he really go _this_ far? And for who? Kuroo’s his worst enemy, but I don’t think he would…want to _kill_ him…do you?”

“Not sure,” Akaashi frowned, unable to settle Bokuto’s growing nerves and wilting expression. “But just in case…I think you better keep it here. You can make a different one with similar color in case this potion does belong to Suguru—that way he won’t know someone stole it.”

“He’ll notice when he tries to use it on some innocent person and it _doesn’t work_!” Bokuto cried.

“Well then—we’ll just have to figure out whose it is _before_ that happens.”

Koutarou hurriedly set the bottle down, eager to get the filthy object as far away from him as possible; this was what happened when he shoplifted. Evil plans to dominate and rule the world are discovered, and from the twisted mind of his _boss_! Only he and Suguru were ever in the back room of _Ghoulish_ —it wasn’t likely that someone else was hiding a dark potion on their rack. Since Bokuto was 90% certain the bottle didn’t belong to him (sometimes he slept walked and did weird stuff, though he doubted he was capable of something this advanced), the finger could only be pointed at Daishou. But to think that Suguru, who didn’t exactly care for the magical community had an evil _potion_ (which definitely worked, based on Bokuto’s physical reaction to defend and protect) that paralyzed whoever drank or inhaled the purple substance…that was a little too spooky for Koutarou.

October really wasn’t very kind to him.

Akaashi and the witch thought over this newest information, trying to understand and figure out why Suguru had such a sick object in the shop; Bokuto’s head was spinning, and his heart started to race again over the idea of his boss hurting Kuroo, his best friend in the entire world, so he used a calming method by thinking of something else, _anything_ else, and a particular memory came rushing to him with a fond energy: when the emergency announcement about the magic ban came out a few days before…Bokuto hadn’t reacted well. But in the midst of the chaos and hurt feelings, something had happened between him and his ghost roommate. Something he wanted to cherish forever, something he wanted to repeat, something he wanted to tell Kuroo about more than anything in the entire world—well, after his magical abilities, of course…but the witch had a feeling Kuroo would be more impressed with this memory.

Shyly, Koutarou glanced over at the slender, dark-haired figure beside him, noticing the pretty transparency of his form, the prettiness of every little detail on Akaashi’s face and body. Blood immediately ran to his cheeks when Keiji looked over and caught him staring like an idiot.

“…Hey Kaashi? You know the other day when you…um, when you…when I had that panic attack thing?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well…I was kinda wondering…” Bokuto rambled, fiddling with his fingers. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but…w-why did you kiss me?”

“K-Kiss you?” Akaashi repeated, as if he had forgotten, but Koutarou knew he hadn’t by the way his spirit form became whiter. “Ah…right. I, um…kissed you…when…”

Keiji took one look at Bokuto and vanished into thin air, leaving the room with a _poof_!

“Kaashi, wait!” The witch called over a laugh, glancing around the apartment wildly. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I was just curious! Please come back!”

“You’re laughing at me,” A voice said quietly, coming from nowhere.

“No, I promise I’m not!”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m embarrassed, too, trust me! I’ve only ever kissed two people before, and one of them was _Kuroo_ , so I was just wondering why you, um…decided to go for _that_ kind of method to calm me down.” Bokuto explained, talking to every corner of the room in case that’s where the ghost was hiding. “Please come out, Akaashi.”

Following a moment of quiet, the pretty eyed boy emerged from the hallway, hands behind his back and head angled down; he almost seemed ashamed over kissing Bokuto, which the student was used to, but something about the spirit’s posture told Koutarou he was more embarrassed over not having a solid reasoning for kissing him. His mouth opened a few times before actual words came out, both boys recalling how Keiji had just barely pressed his cold, smooth lips over Bokuto’s rough, warm ones, slowly bringing him away from the cruel darkness taking over reality, replacing that sensation with one of joy and sweetness. At least, that’s what the ghost intended…

“I…don’t know why I chose that method,” Akaashi the ghost said quietly. “I suppose…I didn’t think a hug would suffice or aid in my attempt to distract you from whatever horrible thoughts you were thinking about yourself. I don’t like standing by while you break your own heart with self-deprecating words—kissing seemed like a solid attempt to introduce something nice into that void.” He gave a small shrug as Bokuto sat on the couch, utterly speechless. “Besides; I wanted to know what it was like.”

“What’s _it_?” Koutarou asked with shock.

“Kissing you.”

The witch was already beside himself from Akaashi’s kind words, but those last two really shook him around—it would have been different, had he said kissing in general, but that wasn’t the case. Keiji said kissing _you_. You, as in…Bokuto. The annoying roommate who never washed dishes or did laundry or finished his homework on time. Akaashi wanted to know what it was like to kiss _him_? Why? _Does he…have a crush on me or something?_ Bokuto thought crazily, trying to wrap his head around that idea. _But he’s so…yeah! And I’m so…bleh! Why would he want to kiss me? I’m no good at it! Surely he must know that!_

“In my defense, I was really emotional and suffering under a lot of stress!” Koutarou announced loudly, confusing Akaashi. “And I really wasn’t prepared for something so—so—romantic! It would have been better if I had saw it coming, I swear!”

“You’re concerned that I didn’t enjoy myself?” Keiji asked, surprise now matching the witch’s.

“Of course you didn’t enjoy it, I’m a _terrible_ kisser!” Bokuto wailed before shoving his face into a couch pillow. “ _Stupid, stupid!_ ”

“Quit being ridiculous, Bokuto-san.”

“Huh?”

Akaashi sighed at their antics and flashed over to the other side of the apartment, standing in front of the couch and peering down at Koutarou, whose face was still half-smushed against the couch. He watched carefully, though, hanging on the spirit’s every word as he awkwardly admitted to what he really felt. For not being human, Keiji was sure feeling lots of emotions right now. He didn’t think another person had ever ripped such emotion from him during his time alive. Bokuto was special like that.

“I enjoyed our kiss very much,” He said gently. “I apologize if I took you by surprise, though it was my intentions to distract you; you don’t have to worry about impressing me with your kissing skills, as you were my first and I have no other to compare it to. Don’t worry.”

Despite Keiji’s attempts to calm the witch’s nerves, his strong cheeks went fiercely red as he ducked his head, trying to hide the bright smile tainting his lips.

“…Why is the blood rushing to your cheeks?”

“W-Well, I just—I got to kiss my _crush_!” Bokuto confessed loudly. “Better yet, I was his _first kiss_!!! How can I _not_ be blushing?!”

“You’re certainly a strange one, Bokuto-san. In a good way.”

“Thanks, Kaashi!” He grinned. The ghost couldn’t help but allow his energy to be infected with this same happiness, suddenly understanding the triumph of Koutarou’s achievement. “I don’t know about you, but finding out my boss is eviler than I ever imagined really wiped me out. Can we go to sleep after the Disney movie, right here?”

“Right here?”

“Yeah. The couch is more homey than my bed. You feel me?”

“Not really.”

The spirit sat down as Bokuto took off his button-up shirt, causing a rush of cold air to shoot through the room, per Akaashi. Before the student got settled, he gave an alarmed holler.

“Ah, wait!”

Bokuto launched himself off the couch and hurried over to his coat, grabbing something out of the pocket before hurrying back to Akaashi, plopping his head onto the ghost’s thigh, which both startled and pleased the other. Keiji couldn’t see what the object was from the angle he was at, but the witch explained soon enough, cradling a blue narzar to his chest protectively after his roommate threw the colorful quilt over his body.

“For protection against the evil eye,” He mumbled quietly.

The owlish man’s grip on the charm tightened as he cuddled up to Akaashi snugly, believing himself to be perfectly safe wedged between an undead person and a little blue droplet. Keiji figured the charm couldn’t hurt anything, at the very least, protect them from whatever evil energy drifted off the dark potion sitting on their coffee table; Bokuto could use some good luck, anyway, although with how comfortable and adorable the witch was lying on Keiji’s leg like it was a pillow, he figured _he_ , the dead ghost was the one with all the luck. Following two Halloween movies on Disney Channel, the witch was almost out like a light, cuddled under his grandmother’s blanket like a child, forehead free of worry lines for the first time in a while. It was a pleasant sight, one the ghost wanted to protect more than anything; he felt a sense of protectiveness over this young college student, the one who had a _crush_ on him, who thought he was a bad kisser (he was definitely _not_ a bad kisser), the boy with shockingly defined muscles and arms, the one with a dorky laugh and even dorkier hair—Akaashi figured this was how Kuroo felt towards his best friend, though this feeling had something more to it. Not knowing what to call it, the ghost remained quiet and watched, envying and appreciating how quickly Koutarou fell asleep on his lap the minute he turned the TV off.

“G’night, Akaashi.” Bokuto mumbled sleepily, a hidden smile on his face.

“Goodnight, Bokuto-san,” He replied in a whisper. His ghostly fingers dared to gently brush a lock of Bokuto’s wild hair back, something he’d always wanted to do. “… _I won’t let any evil thing hurt you ever again_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo yoy ooooo thanks for reading
> 
> and remember, my original short story "The Evil Eye" that I wrote in HS for a contest is uploaded onto my BodhiJolieLark account!


	8. Narzars

 

_Friday, October 26 th_

On Friday afternoon, two days before the anniversary of Akaashi’s death, Bokuto and the other divination students were required to turn in another report, one the ghost of apartment 4B managed to write despite the chaos of the last week or so. The witch was eternally thankful and promised to give Keiji a present if he got higher than a B; as it turns out, Sensei Washijo seemed to already be impressed with the report when Bokuto handed it to him with trembling fingers, unable to take his attention off the college’s CEO sitting in the corner of the room, jotting notes down on his paper every few minutes.

“If this report is anything like your last, Bokuto,” Washijo commented stiffly. “I think you might manage to maintain an A in this class for the rest of the semester.”

“Really? Um…cool, I guess.”

“What did you choose as your subject this time?”

_“I already choose the topic of your report,” Akaashi told him one day. “If anyone asks, it’s about the way divination came to be thought of as a science, not a magic. Is it okay if I bullshit most of it, Bokuto-san? Because whoever thinks divination doesn’t involve some magic must be fooling themselves.”_

“The subject—is…the way divination came to be thought of as a science, not a form of sorcery.” Koutarou nodded surely, wording with extreme caution.

“Interesting. Well…I look forward to reading it.”

“Thank you, sensei.”

The witch had run out of class plenty of times, but he had never sprinted across the room this fast before, ignoring the warning posters pinned up everywhere, telling students their best friend could be a witch without their knowledge. Kuroo said it wasn’t legal to actively discriminate against magic users like they were, but that didn’t stop them, apparently; Bokuto ran until he found Tetsurou amongst his demonologist friends on the yard, where the first light layer of snow had fallen over Tokyo. The image made Koutarou slightly depressed, remembering that only two days later, in 1996, the first snowfall of October fell on the night Akaashi Keiji was killed. His mood fell further as he stiffly approached Kuroo at one of the tables, hoping to have a quick conversation before hurrying off to work.

“Bo!” Tetsurou greeted, waving wildly and making his group of friends look over. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Um…”

Bokuto became extremely agitated when speaking in front of more than a few people; all the demonology students were staring at him curiously, but to the witch, it seemed as if they were all analyzing him, determined to figure out his secret.

“I-I just wanted to tell you that Suguru’s mad at you, and you should probably stay away from the shop for a while.” The grey-haired man slightly lied. He and Akaashi discussed keeping Kuroo away from his step-brother until October finished, for his own safety, or until they figured out what the hell Suguru was up to.

“What’s new?” Kuroo laughed. “Thanks for the heads-up; wanna sit with us for a while? We’re gunna go to lunch after we finish this discussion—you can tag along if you want.”

“Sorry, I’m working tonight.”

“So after that, then, yeah?”

The witch bit his lip harshly. He knew what Kuroo was doing. When October came around, it wasn’t uncommon for Koutarou to try and avoid all levels of socializing, and usually Tetsurou gently tugged him along for a few things just so he wouldn’t have to worry about what his best friend was doing at home (wallowing in self-pity). The cat’s tone seemed firmer than usual, despite the lightness of the words, but those determined hazel eyes couldn’t fool Bokuto. Normally he was a sucker, but he wasn’t about to risk his best friend’s life by proving his attachment to Suguru—if anything, that would make his hatred burn even further, and if he really was trying to poison his step-sibling, Bokuto had to do everything in his power to prevent that.

“Nah,” Koutarou shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, though. See you later.”

While Kuroo was seriously disturbed by the lack of affection and interest in his friend’s response, he didn’t show it, choosing instead to shrug and bid him farewell. The demonologists continued their discussion, but it lacked the usual insight from one of their main students, whose eyes followed after Bokuto until he disappeared off campus.

 _He’s suspicious_ , the witch concluded as he entered his own apartment before heading to _Ghoulish_. _He’s suspicious, and he’s probably been pretty suspicious for a while, now, which means he’ll approach me soon, which means Suguru will get a chance to use the potion on him, which means—_

“Did you turn in your report, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asked, peeking around the entryway.

“Yup!” Koutarou squeaked. Anxiety always affected his voice. “Right on time!”

“What happened?” The ghost asked immediately, watching as Bokuto worriedly wrung his hands together. “Did…did something…”

“Not really, no! There were posters warning of witches at the college and Kuroo asked me to go out with his demon friends but I said no because I had to work and I said no for after work too but that’s all!”

Keiji could only watch with concern as his roommate hurried over to the couch and plopped down, shaking his leg nervously and forgetting to take his sneakers off at the door. He knew returning to the college where his only sensei was already prejudice against magic was going to be difficult, and it seemed 9+ hours of sleep didn’t do much in aiding Bokuto’s nerve; the spirit remembered what he said about his magic being uncontrollable during times of stress and quickly sat down beside the bulky student, putting a cold hand on one of those strong forearms as comfort.

“Calm down, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said lowly. “It’s okay—you’re here now, you’re safe, and you’re going to head to work soon, right?”

“R-Right. Work...with… _Suguru_.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Keiji agreed slowly, trying to dim the fear in those yellow eyes. “ _And_ …you have the fake potion that you’re going to put back, right?”

“R-Right. Potion…fake potion…that won’t kill Kuroo…”

“Yes. It won’t hurt Kuroo.”

“Right. Right.” Koutarou repeated robotically. His next words blurted out before he could really think about them. “Will you come with me, Akaashee?!”

“Huh?” The ghost asked, cocking his head to the side in confusion. “Come with you…to _Ghoulish_?”

“Please oh _please_ come, Akaashi!!!” Bokuto cried before throwing himself onto the floor at the spirit’s socked feet and grabbing onto those cold wrists pleadingly. “I can’t do this by myself, I’ll fold under the pressure, you _know_ I will!!! You should come with for moral support!!! I’ll feel better if you were there, Akaashi, _please_ come!”

“I’m…I’m not opposed to accompanying you, Bokuto-san,” Keiji replied blankly. “It’s just…that…it’s incredibly _difficult_ for me to leave the apartment, in my current state.”

Bokuto’s big eyes stared at Akaashi for a long moment before he seemed to realize the complications of his request. It wasn’t as simple as asking Kuroo to come on a journey with him—but since that was out of the question, Koutarou had stupidly blurted out his next choice of person without even thinking the circumstances over. He felt horrible for taunting the ghost in such a way, but a crazy idea occurred to him as he looked into the ghost’s beautiful dark eyes.

“The attachment spell.”

“What?” Keiji questioned.

“The attachment spell,” Bokuto repeated, never blinking. “I…never understood why that spell existed, but now…I think I found a use for it.”

Without another word, those warm hands released their grip on Akaashi’s wrists, leaving with the body of a witch and returning with a small red spell book; Koutarou was flipping through the pages rapidly, landing on a specific one and holding the page open as his high eyebrows furrowed with concentration. Keiji was still in the dark, eagerly waiting for whatever it was his roommate was going on about.

“This spell reminds me of Mario, when they jump on the cute little dinosaur and whenever you click the jump button, the dinosaur jumps with him!” Bokuto exclaimed excitedly.

“I’m not following.”

“This is an attachment spell,” The witch explained, holding the book out so Akaashi could read. “Ghosts usually stay where their final attachment was, right? Or wherever their heart wanted to be at the time of death, like Kuroo says?”

“Usually, yes…”

“Well, with this spell, I would be changing your spiritual attachment to _me_ instead of this apartment. That way you would be drifting wherever I went, because your attachment was to me—get it?”

The ghostly roommate was struck silent, gaze hazily locked onto the book as if he was hypnotized. It suddenly occurred to Bokuto that his words and suggestions were totally out of line and manipulative, and due to his anxious nature, expecting punishment for this feat, he began to apologize profusely.

“This—This is totally selfish of me, I get that!” Koutarou added hurriedly, shutting the book with a snap. “I understand that you probably don’t want t—”

“Yes.” Akaashi interrupted. He stood from the couch slowly and seriously as the witch stared again, waiting for him to elaborate. Or to smack him on the head. “I want to come with you to _Ghoulish_. I can spy on Suguru that way, and help you in putting the fake potion back.”

“R… _Really_?” The student whispered. “Um…this…isn’t a trick, is it?”

“No, Bokuto-san. I would never dare trick you unless I knew you were of right mind.”

A rush of warmth went through Koutarou’s chest at that touching (and slightly false) promise. He didn’t want to cry in front of his crush again, but that’s the direction they were headed if Akaashi was any nicer to him in the future.

“Besides,” Keiji smiled darkly. “I’ve always wondered how amusing watching you at work would be.”

“It’s _hilarious_ , Akaashee, I drop stuff like, five times a day!”

“Then let’s hurry; I enjoy a good laugh now and then.”

“Yeet!!!”

Keiji ignored whatever noise that was and stood in front of the witch strongly, preparing his form for a drastic change in atmosphere; Bokuto repeated the spell under his breath a few times, getting the feel of it before setting the book aside. That magical aura overcame the apartment (a feeling Akaashi couldn’t deny he loved deeply) as the college student took a deep, calming breath, preparing himself and focusing all his energy on performing this spell correctly. Part of him just wanted to impress Akaashi, and the other part of him just wanted to make sure he didn’t mess with Akaashi’s aura or anything during the process, thus, ruining his ghostly abilities as well as his human-like abilities.

“Do you trust me?” Bokuto whispered. It was meant to be to himself as a reassurance, but Keiji heard.

“I trust you.”

_And there come the tears again…_

“Conteram nexus, ad me.”

_Break the link, link to me._

 

With those simple words, Akaashi’s entire existence was flipped upside down.

 

Gravity shifted all around him, turning its pull not towards earth, but towards Bokuto instead—a whirlwind of emotions attacked his empty soul, breaking his attachment from the tragic circumstances across from the Crow’s Nest and altering them so this witch was the place, the person he wanted to lock onto _forever_. His spirit felt as if it was being ripped from the ghostly body, slapping itself onto Koutarou, who lost his breath in the midst of the spell’s work; the blood, the memories, Akaashi’s entire meaning twisted itself until Bokuto was the only being left standing in his world. This apartment meant nothing to Keiji. At that moment, as his blown back eyes finally began to focus on reality again, all he knew was that the gap between them had to be closed immediately. It wasn’t a want. If Akaashi didn’t go to Bokuto _right now_ , he was sure he would cease to exist.

“It worked,” The student breathed, head dizzy from the emotional spell. “I can feel it worki—”

In a flash, Keiji took one large step, now nose to nose with Bokuto, who shut his mouth at their physical contact and became sheepish.

“Uhh…maybe it worked a little _too_ well…”

“Your level of power,” The spirit huffed, breath smashing against Koutarou’s lips. “Is _extraordinary_.”

“A-Ah,” Bokuto shrugged as he was totally unable to move a muscle, what with his crush pressed up against him and complimenting his magic skills. “W-Well, it’s more based off fear than skill, so…”

“You…You _changed my attachment_. You changed a _ghost’s ending_ , if only for a moment—Bokuto-san. Do not try and tell me that is no extraordinary feat.”

At this point, the grey-haired boy was fairly certain he had accidentally made Akaashi fall in love with him and tried hiding his shameful blush at the thought. There was no time for this! He was going to be late and Suguru would kill him in his sleep!

“Okay, well…we better get going, Akaashi.”

“Right,” The shorter man nodded, though he still didn’t blink or move away. “…Lead the way, Bokuto-san.”

“O-Okay…um…”

Koutarou had to physically grab his own shoulder and turn himself around, very aware that Akaashi’s aura was connected to his, as a shadow-like feeling followed him towards the door.

“To the magic shop.”

 

By the time Bokuto made it to _Ghoulish_ , he was sure a handful of people thought he was a combination of a lunatic and a witch. The connection he made between he and Akaashi the ghost was painfully strong, making him not seem lonely for the first time in all his twenty years. After realizing this sort of felt like a demonic possession, Bokuto figured he had better put up his usual nervous act before they faced the evil snake, which was surprisingly easy to do with Akaashi walking only a step behind him—as much as Koutarou appreciated his best friend Kuroo, he had to admit it felt easier admitting certain characteristics to Keiji. Maybe it was because they had no history between them, save for a few pranks at the beginning of October…like Akaashi said, he was a ghost, and it wasn’t common for ghosts to be heard gossiping, or heard at all.

 _Jeez…I hope he can’t hear my thoughts when we’re connected like this_ , the divination student worried, biting his lip as he paused before the shop. _That would be so embarrassing!_

“Calm down,” A quiet voice whispered in his left ear. “It’s doubtful that others can see me, unless they possess magical powers like you.”

“That’s unlikely, since they’re probably all stuck in hiding,” Bokuto mumbled back. A woman gave him a strange look as she exited the shop. “What’s our plan?”

“I’ll wander around you for a while, to put you at ease.” Akaashi whispered, feeling the overwhelming desire for Koutarou wearing off only after their ten-minute walk. “Then I’ll do some snooping around in Suguru’s office—maybe I’ll find something hidden in there.”

“What about the potion?”

“I’ll take care of that, too. All you have to do is be your normal self, Bokuto-san. That shouldn’t be too difficult, right?”

“Mm…it might be… _less_ difficult if you were to, oh, I don’t know…” The witch swallowed nervously. His brain begged him not to say the next words, but his heart made up their mind already. “ _Kiss_ me again? For good luck?”

After the heavy sigh, Bokuto figured he wasn’t going to get what he wanted, but a cold little peck on his cheek (which he almost mistook for a gust of wind) changed his mind.

“There. I better not see any slip ups, now that your ego is boosted.”

“You can count on me, Akaashee!”

Daishou knew he would be in for a rough evening when Bokuto came bursting into the shop with a creepy grin on his lips and wide, bright eyes.

“I sense a disturbance in the force,” Suguru hissed to himself, faking a smile as Koutarou waved obnoxiously.

“Hey hey, Suguru! Busy today?”

“Extremely. Can you watch the till while I grab some orders from the back?”

“Sure thing! Whatever you need, boss man!”

“…”

The grey-haired student stomped past Daishou proudly, hanging his bag up in the back room before hurrying to stand at the till, where several children with costumes were waiting with questions over their choices. Bokuto helped them all happily while his boss took a deep breath, calming his nerves as best he could—still, he couldn’t shake off a sudden coldness that took over his body, causing the hair to raise on the back of his neck. This feeling didn’t resemble Bokuto in the slightest. Suguru looked around the shop several times, only to find nothing and be more irritated than before.

“What have we got here?” Koutarou questioned, scanning over the children who held their costumes up against their bodies. “Ah ha! Naruto, Totoro, Pikachu annnnd…”

A cute, shy little blonde girl looked up at Bokuto with wide eyes, hoping he would guess hers right.

“Kiki’s Delivery Service!”

“YEAH!”

“Which one do you like the best, Bokuto-san?!” The kid who was _way_ too young to have a tongue ring asked, pointing to his Pikachu outfit.

“Honestly, I think they’re all pretty great!”

From the corner of Ghoulish, Akaashi the ghost was watching and admiring his roommate as he interacted with the children, laughing at their Halloween jokes and giving them 15% discounts for being cute. If they were basing discount percentages on cuteness, Bokuto probably wouldn’t be able to use that to his advantage, because the item would end-up being free, and Suguru wouldn’t allow it. Akaashi hid his stare even though no one else could see him (that he knew of), choosing to duck around the store and burn these memories into his head—he probably wouldn’t be able to experience Koutarou’s personality within a social circle ever again, and he wanted to remember the gentle way he took the money from the children, the perfect way he bagged their precious costumes, and especially the way he showed them to the door and wished them a Happy Halloween, making sure they knew to drop by between noon and five on Halloween night, because they would have different hours that day and he didn’t want them to miss the candy. Damn that witch for his attractive traits…

“See you later, Bokuto-san!”

“See you guys! Get home safely!”

Keiji figured he had better get to work on investigating Suguru before he _really_ got distracted. After giving the scene one last smile, the ghost drifted through the racks of costumes and snuck his way to the back room, effortlessly avoiding Suguru by walking through the wall next to their back-entry door while the owner exited. The room was exactly how Bokuto described, with a potion wall to the right, a couch straight ahead, and a coat hanger next to the potion rack; Akaashi finished the first plan quickly and efficiently, taking the fake potion (which Koutarou made himself, stuffing confetti inside and designing its magic so nothing but a storm of party came out) from the witch’s bag and slipping it in to the darkest part of the shelf, where Suguru or someone else had hid the real one.

There were definitely some perks to being a ghost.

 _The potion is in place_ , Akaashi confirmed. _Now where is the office…_

To the spirit’s left, he located the second door in the backroom, this one marked as _Daishou Suguru_ while the other near the couch was marked _exit_ —without wasting any time like people in movies do, Keiji slid through the door silently, taking a quick breath before scanning the layout of Suguru’s office. From what he remembered of the Harry Potter movies, Akaashi would say this room was decorated off the Slytherin house; the walls were a dark emerald green, matching the fancy chair behind the coal black desk, intricately decorated, and the floor below laid a mixture of ashy grey that somehow made Suguru’s tiny room seem even darker. Keiji thought Bokuto had been joking when he said Daishou had a snake kink, but the strange patterns of snake-like figures scattered throughout the room made him think twice. _Hopefully Bokuto-san never gets called in here_ , Akaashi thought, frowning as he approached Suguru’s desk. _He’d probably have a heart attack._

The ghost shook off his icky feelings and let his eyes wander over the contents on Daishou’s freakishly clean desk—there were some serious signs of psychopathic tendencies beginning to show, here, and Akaashi felt sincerely worried for Koutarou’s safety. Every paper was in alignment with the next, every snake shaped paper weight in a specific location on each paper, every pen facing the same direction…it was a little odd, despite Suguru’s prissy personality. Bokuto never mentioned him being a neat freak before—you would think Kuroo would poke fun at that at every opportunity. Keiji shook his head again and filed this information away for later, scanning over the titles of each document Suguru had sitting out. Most had to do with new Halloween items or payments on the building, but after going through three stacks of paper, Akaashi finally found his interest caught with one: a black folder labeled _reminders_.

Keiji froze at a loud noise echoing through the shop, then quietly opened the folder and began reading.

The first paper was a copy of the building rent document sitting out. The second was a Halloween deadline for orders, and the third—

Akaashi blinked a couple times, then pulled out a document he hadn’t expected to find so effortlessly, and wondered why Daishou would have this in his reminder folder.

 _The will and testimony of Daisuke Suguru_.

For a moment, Keiji had to scan his memories of Kuroo and Bokuto’s conversations to remember that Daishou’s father was still very alive; he must have prepared this after reaching a certain age, knowing how prone his step-son and biological son were to fighting. Bokuto may have overlooked this if he was the one snooping around, but Akaashi knew better—like his roommate had a sense to when others were acting evil, this ghost had a hunch for vital information. It was programmed into his brain even in death, a skill he developed while searching for magic all his life. Suguru wouldn’t have this sitting out for no reason other than to…what? Brag? Mock himself? Form a murder plot? Keiji didn’t know for sure, so he slid out the entire document and began reading, word for word.

 

_The will and testimony of:_

**_Daisuke Suguru_ **

_I, Daisuke Suguru, residing at 6 th Ave., Nekoma, Tokyo, of sound and right mind, declare this to be my will, and I revoke any and all wills I previously made. In the event of my death, this will shall be…_

Akaashi spent a few minutes reading articles one and two, not finding anything remotely interesting until he came to the inheritance portion—presumably, the only writing Suguru would care about. The ghost was not disappointed in what he read, and links began clicking together inside his brain.

_ Article III. _

_ Inheritance _

_The three sole inheritors of my will include the following: my wife, Tenna Kuroo-Suguru, my son, Daishou Suguru, and my step-son, Tetsurou Kuroo._

_I will my good wife Tenna half of the remaining allowance in my bank account, along with the precious jewel collection in my study, my clothing, my lucky pen and her favorite car out of my collection. She is now the owner of the remaining cars after the boys have their picks. I put my trust in her to make the arrangements for the small funeral, and hope she will save a spot next to me for her in the Lovely Bones Cemetery, when the time comes. As the shared owner of our home in Nekoma, I will her my half as well._

_I will my home on 1 st street, #539, Nohebi, to my son Daishou, to which he may do whatever he pleases with it. He will also receive the opportunity to pick a car out of my collection for his personal use, along with my office desk, my book collection and 1,000,000 yen ($8,915 US dollars) as part of his insurance for his store Ghoulish, of which now he is the current owner._

The final portion of the inheritance article was the real kick in the ass, following the brief, two sentence portion of what Daishou was to inherit—all the pieces came together at a faster pace as Akaashi read the list of what _Kuroo_ was to receive after his step-father’s passing in the future.

_I will my step-son Tetsurou his favorite car out of my collection and the ownership of my previously owned store (Ghoulish), should Daishou no longer wish to run it. I also will Tetsurou my emerald statue, my privately owned building on 8 th Ave., Nekoma, to use for whatever he pleases, my golden crucifix, the use of my library at my previous home in Nohebi, as well as the ownership of that same home, should Daishou decline ownership, and lastly, I will him the other half of my remaining allowance._

“No wonder Daishou hates Kuroo,” Keiji whispered to himself with wide eyes, re-reading the final gift over and over. “His son gets a lousy million yen for his store, and Kuroo gets a _building_ , ownership of _Daishou’s store_ if he should want to get rid of it and…the entire other _half_ of his step-father’s savings.”

Akaashi had no idea what kind of money Suguru’s father made as a businessman, but he guessed, what with the mention of a car collection, that Daisuke certainly wasn’t lacking in wealth. His son did take over that very same business, which other sons would be grateful for, but to Keiji, Suguru didn’t seem like the thankful type; instead of using this shop as a tool for success, he probably just wanted that inheritance money to spend lavishly without working. It must have stung something fierce when Daishou read his father’s will, only to find that he’d been purposely left without much (an expensive car, his childhood home and a desk hardly seemed like “much” for someone as selfish as Daishou, from what Akaashi had heard and seen) in favor of a lousy step-son…

The spirit slid the document back in its exact place, troubled over its contents as he flipped to the next set of papers—these ones startled him, as several copies of one document were a bright neon yellow color with big black lettering, not at all like the other formal papers Keiji discovered. His frown turned to a look of serious concern and shock when he read the words typed in plain font in the middle of the paper:

** SECRET GATHERING ALERT **

**_Calling all magic users!!!_ **

**In light of the recent law, a secret meeting will be held for all magical beings on the night of October 31 st at the old Witch’s Cove, 3 miles West of the Tokyo forest, 10 P.M. Discreetness is of the essence. Please alert any other magical being you know as a matter of urgency.**

_Secret gathering…meeting for all magic users…Suguru, who definitely was not a witch or any other magical being…whose father, a kind businessman who respected the magic community previously owned this shop and gave the best inheritance to Kuroo, his step-son…the evil potion…that paralyzes victims…Daishou made the posters…the meeting on Halloween…Suguru…_

“He’s gathering them together to kill them,” Akaashi whispered with horror. “But… _why_?”

“I’ll be in my office for a while—call if you need me.”

Keiji gasped and hurriedly corrected the desk alignment before rushing to hide behind the door; despite Suguru not being able to see him, the snake’s presence didn’t put the ghost at ease, being in the same room as it, so he hid as if his ghostly powers ceased to exist. Daishou entered the back room and opened the door to his office a second later, closing the door quietly behind him as those narrowed snake eyes scanned the room quickly—finding nothing, he strolled to his desk and sat down in the large green king chair, releasing a deep sigh. Akaashi reeled his cold aura in, though his glare was so sharp it was amazing Suguru couldn’t feel its anger as he sat straight across from where the ghost stood. He didn’t do anything but sit quietly for a few minutes, the office eerily silent and cut-off from the rest of the world; Keiji figured this was where he came to rant to himself and scowl where no one could see. Daishou sighed again before shuffling a few papers around, signing his name on two as Akaashi prepared to make an escape from the room, certain he had seen enough of this snake for one day. He had to tell Bokuto about what he found, about what Kuroo was to inherit—

When Akaashi triggered his ‘walk through walls’ power, pushing his right hand through the drywall behind him, Suguru’s head shot up. The ghost could only stare in shock as it seemed that the snake’s gaze was _directly on his_.

Keiji left in a hurry after connecting with those dark, cruel eyes, rushing through _Ghoulish_ without so much as a whisper to Bokuto, who could feel severe pain and loss inside his chest as the attachment spell was broken by the spirit leaving the store without looking back once.

~~~-~~~

Bokuto had never been so eager to get home before. Sure, Suguru had been acting weird all day, paranoid, almost, but the witch wasn’t hurrying home for that reason. Akaashi had broken their attachment with no explanation, which couldn’t mean anything good about what he discovered in Daishou’s office; Koutarou hoped it wasn’t anything too horrible or dramatic, though he had a bad feeling when he opened the apartment door, ignoring the text chime going off in his pocket.

 **kitty kat kuroo** : _wanna hang? Switched shifts w someone. Wanna see the new Halloween movie? I hear michael is extra savage in this one_

“Akaashi! Akaashi, are you here?!”

“Here, Bokuto-san.”

Koutarou followed the weak voice into the living room, where the ghost appeared on the couch rubbing his temples stressfully, form lighter than usual from the amount of energy he was using to be worried. The divination student sat down beside him immediately, not hesitating to put an arm around him, because that was what Kuroo always did when Bokuto was upset.

“What happened?” The thicker boy whispered gently. “What did you find, Akaashee?”

“Several things,” Keiji sighed, still hiding his face in his slender hands. “Did you know about Kuroo’s inheritance?”

“Inheritance from who?”

“Suguru’s father.”

“…Oh god…don’t tell me…”

“Yes,” Akaashi nodded. “Kuroo is to receive half of Daisuke’s savings when he passes. Can you guess who doesn’t get the other half?”

“Jeez…” Bokuto took his turn to sigh heavily. “So I was right—Suguru’s going to use that potion to murder Kuroo and get the money? That’s totally sick!!! We have to stop him!!!”

“There’s more, Bokuto-san.”

The witch bit his lip nervously, waiting as Keiji collected his words. They were harder to say when one of the victim’s may very well be sitting right next to him, someone Akaashi had grown to care for immensely over the past month…how could you tell someone their boss was planning to kill them? Of course, Suguru may not know of Bokuto’s magical abilities, but still.

“Suguru-san will be handing out secret posters…for a meeting of all magical creatures in Tokyo.”

“But…Suguru isn’t a magic user, is he?” Koutarou asked nervously.

“I don’t think so,” Akaashi shook his head, pushing a memory that may or may not contradict that sentence away. “I put it all together, and it seems…that Suguru was planning on using the potion you stole to paralyze and then…eliminate them.”

“He’s going to _kill_ them?!” Bokuto shouted. “But why?!!!”

“It must be revenge of sorts. His father was fairly friendly towards the magical community, wasn’t he? I remember his name from my time being alive.”

“Well, yeah, but why the hell would Suguru pick _them_ of all people?! Why doesn’t he just kill Kuroo to get the insurance money like in _Snapped_?!”

“I don’t know.”

“Why the hell would—why is he targeting witches?! Does he know _I’m_ a witch?!”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh my god…oh my god…”

“Calm down, B—”

 _Knock knock_.

Two knocks on the apartment door interrupted their conversation. Koutarou needed a moment to react and move towards the door, while Akaashi was still too pent-up with emotion to move from the couch; whoever was at the door wouldn’t see him, anyway, so the ghost stayed put as Bokuto peered through the peep hole and cursed under his breath. Following another moment of hesitation, the witch opened the door to reveal Kuroo himself—the demonologist didn’t speak for a second, and Bokuto was sure it was because of his own anxious aura.

“…Hey,” The black-haired student greeted slowly, eyes making their way back to Bokuto. “You didn’t answer my text. Everything good?”

“Um…actually, I’m…busy.”

“Busy with what?”

“Just busy, Kuroo.”

“Hm. That’s really interesting, actually, because it looks like you’re doing nothing.” Tetsurou replied, tone a mix between sarcasm and irritation. “First you blow me off at the university, then you ignore my texts, now you’re alone in your apartment and you say you’re _busy_?” He repeated in disbelief. “What gives, Bo?”

“N-Nothing!”

Obviously Kuroo didn’t believe him. He saw through his best friend better than he saw through demons. Tetsurou stared at Koutarou intently, as if trying to inch out a truthful sentence from him.

“You’ve been lying an awful lot lately,” Kuroo stated, voice softer. “You’re not, like… _hurting_ yourself, are you?”

“No, of course not!” Bokuto cried. “I’m fine, really!”

“We discuss this _every year_ , Bokuto.” His best friend sighed, rubbing his temples stressfully as Akaashi listened to their growing argument. “I get that you need space during October, but shutting your friends off completely isn’t good for your health!”

“I _know_ that, Kuroo.”

“So what’s the deal? Do you need help? Is…Is it getting bad again?”

Tetsurou’s genuine concern shot thorns through Bokuto’s heart; the witch didn’t think the day would ever come when he couldn’t tell his friend about his problems, but…for one of the first times, their separation would do both of them some good. Kuroo wouldn’t make himself vulnerable to Suguru by hanging out at the shop to hang with Bokuto, and the divination student himself wouldn’t cause attention to their relationship while figuring out some shit for himself. The lying would have to end here. Of course, the truth would be altered, but Koutarou would try to be as honest as he could allow—looking at his best friend now, he wondered how they held onto their friendship this long. All these years after wiping Tetsurou’s memories, and the witch still couldn’t let go of all the great times they shared. Maybe those very memories had been holding him back, hurting his relationship with the demonologist…but now, at least for a while…things had to be different. That familiar ache returned full-force when Bokuto looked into Kuroo’s genuine hazel cat eyes, sensing the appreciation and concern that had always been there, the same concern he missed whenever he wasn’t with his bestie.

Bokuto hoped, once October ended, they could go back to the way they were before. Before Kuroo forgot about magic, before Bokuto’s mom knew he practiced magic, when they would roam the forest together having the time of their lives…

 

“I just think…you should stay away.” Koutarou said quietly. “Until October ends.”

 

Even if Akaashi couldn’t see Kuroo’s expression clearly, he knew exactly what it looked like following his best friend’s stinging suggestion. The black-haired student was staring at Bokuto blankly, understanding and not understanding what he was getting at; not _once_ during the entire history of their relationship had the clingy Bokuto Koutarou ever asked Kuroo to stay away from him. Usually it was Tetsurou who had to calm himself down and keep his mouth from lashing out at the other for hanging around him all the time—had this October really changed that much between them?

With the way Bokuto gently pushed his friend out of the doorway, Kuroo guessed it had.

“…Bye, Kuroo. I’m sorry.”

The witch shut the door quietly, leaving the demonologist alone in the empty hallway.

Akaashi wasn’t the only one with a depressed spirit, now; he shook off his own and approached an extremely agitated Bokuto as he began pacing the entrance hall, mumbling and cursing himself for what he just did.

“W-Why did I do that?” Koutarou asked himself shakily, picking at his lip with wide, hurt eyes. “I…I shouldn’t have said that to him…he was just trying to help, right? Why would I tell him to stay away?”

“It was probably for the best, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi comforted calmly. “If Kuroo was hanging around us, he would find out about everything—for now, I think it’s best we keep him in the dark.”

“But—But he feels bad for the magical community! Maybe we should tell him so he can help!”

“That may be true, but…what if it puts him in even _more_ danger, Bokuto?”

“What do you mean?” The other asked, eyes widening with terror.

“Well…what if he gets involved in our plan, whatever that may be, and Suguru decides to go straight after him? What would we do then?”

“I can protect him!” The witch claimed, words losing control by the syllable. “I can protect him, I know defensive spells! I can practice, I can practice more—”

“But—”

“And the potion, Suguru doesn’t have the pot—”

“We shouldn’t underestimate his powers, though, Bokuto, he probably has means of getting his hands on another one.”

“No!”

Akaashi froze in his spot when Koutarou shook his hand away, shrinking down to the floor so he could wrap his thick arms around his legs like he did so often whenever he was overwhelmed with anxiety. His ramblings continued in a flurry of fear and pain, eyes pinched shut like his mother would strike him at any minute.

“No…h-he can’t…hurt Kuroo…no… _no_ …”

Kissing didn’t seem like an appropriate act of comfort right now, so Keiji settled for hurriedly kneeling down beside Koutarou and petting his head gently, as if one would a harmless child. Bokuto was lost to him, mouth quivering and eyes welling with tears while visions of everything that could go wrong injured his mind further; Akaashi frantically tried to remember the lyrics of the song Bokuto sang when he was feeling bad. It had something to do with a cat…

“Black cat, black cat, please come here…” Keiji sang. “I won’t hurt you, never fear…there may be shadows all around, dark and rustling shapes that creep and dark along the ground…”

A couple tears fell from the witch’s golden eyes, but Akaashi kept his wits about him and continued, singing in a gentle voice while still stroking those crazy streaks of black and grey hair.

“Black cat, black cat, don’t you fear; there are no real monsters here…if you will come down from that tree, you can join my family and come home to live with me…”

It took a few repeats and hundreds of gentle touches, but finally, Bokuto seemed to return from whatever hellish nightmare he induced upon his heart. He accepted Akaashi’s hand and brought himself to his feet, although his head remained hanging low.

“Come on,” The ghost chided softly. “We don’t want to miss the marathon, do we? We’ll come up with a plan later.”

Bokuto nodded once, allowing Keiji to move them onto the couch while turning the TV to Disney Channel; of course, the ghost wasn’t expecting his roommate to be so easily distracted, but aided the situation further by lightly pushing Koutarou’s head downwards until he was resting on Akaashi’s thigh again. Only then did the witch release a deep, trembling breath that got his heart rate back down to a remotely healthy level. This was the most stressed Akaashi had ever felt, and he once had seven tests in one week during his life—he didn’t know how to help Bokuto other than gentle caresses mixed with a Disney Halloween movie. For a moment, they recovered, but the divination student was still troubled by several things, only one of which he spoke of.

 

“The community has hung up over a thousand narzars all over the streets,” Bokuto sniffled under his breath. “…But I doubt they’ll be able to stop Suguru.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason the next chapter is trash, despite me working on it for almost a week...sorry in advance. But the final chapter on Halloween Night will be great! Until then, thanks for reading!
> 
> suguru my precious snake boi wat r u doing to me


	9. Grim Reaper

 

_Sunday, October 28 th_

_The 22 nd Anniversary of Akaashi Keiji’s death_

Bokuto was both relieved and highly disappointed to not receive a single text or call from his best friend over the next few days. Akaashi would have preferred a quick text from Kuroo breaking the semi-agreement he made with Bokuto, because the witch had been nothing but an anxious mess since then. Only when he practiced difficult magic did Koutarou’s heart and mind seem at ease; meanwhile, the ghost of apartment 4B himself seemed to be suffering internally as well. The 28th of October, 2018 marked the twenty-two-year point since his untimely death at the age of nineteen. All the harsh protesters in this area of Tokyo agreed to not run around with their signs on this day in his honor, giving every hidden magical being a break for a short day. Akaashi could hardly help Bokuto devise a plan against Suguru when his energy levels were so jumpy and fragile, causing him to be happy one moment and devastated the next—

And that was before the 28th even arrived.

There were many objectives set forth near the end of October, none of which had solutions, yet: firstly, there was Daishou, who may or may not be some kind of evil magical creature, planning to destroy all the witches in Tokyo with his evil potions and his evil flyers, which Bokuto had discovered hanging-up on a hidden portion of an alleyway…there was Kuroo, who obeyed his best friend by not contacting him, which put the student in a depressed mood, and then there was poor Akaashi, the ghost with feelings who would once again, have to go through the most painful day of the year, despite being relatively at peace with his death. Koutarou, too, felt horribly sorry for his roommate and had trouble sleeping the night of the 27th, and following several unsuccessful attempts, he decided to go for a walk at two a.m., after the dreaded day had finally arrived and it became clear that sweet serenity found within sleep would not be found today. Since Akaashi’s spirit was hauntingly absent from the apartment, the witch went alone, bundling up to protect against the harsh fall wind in the early hours of the 28th. The sky was still dark, but Tokyo’s numerous Halloween decorations lit every street corner, allowing Bokuto sight, but not so much that it altered his mood for the better. All these orange hues made him depressed even further, and although he appreciated alone time, the empty streets made him feel _too_ alone—thus, his thoughts remembered a painful conversation between he and Akaashi the day before, in the midst of their combined anxiety spikes and a horror Halloween movie marathon.

_“I wish these stupid movies would at least give me an idea of how to stop Suguru,” The witch mumbled with a pout. “I just…I don’t know if I can kill people like these idiots can. B-But…I also don’t think I have enough power to stop him…without hurting him. You know, Akaashee?”_

_“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Keiji replied, though his voice lacked its usual authority on account of his bursting nerves._

_“I’ve been practicing and everything, but what if I have a flashback during the fight? What if Suguru is a witch, too? That means he’s more powerful than me, right? because he can make potions! Wh—”_

_“Need I remind you, Bokuto-san,” The ghost interrupted. “That you will be surrounded by other witches inside that cave when you face Suguru. And I will be with you as well. You’ve never been entirely alone in this, and you won’t be on Halloween night, either.”_

“How come he’s always right?” Koutarou whined to himself, not knowing where he was walking. How many hours had passed already? “…Maybe I’ll get lost right now and won’t have to fight Suguru. But…then he would kill all those innocent people Halloween night. That little snake bastard—…if only Kuroo could help. He’s cunning, he’d make a good planner…”

Bokuto released a troubling sigh, ignoring the posters with creepy masks on them as he passed a line of Halloween shops.

“If only, if only.”

The Tokyo streets were quieter than Bokuto ever remembered in all his isolated walks over the years; he guessed most hobos were as afraid of October as he was, choosing to remain hidden from reapers and goblins out of fear. The witch walked and walked aimlessly, legs ceasing to feel fatigue, running on pure fear, like usual; hour after hour passed without so much as a leaf crunching under Koutarou’s sneakers, and even when a chime sounded off from a gust of freezing cold wind, the divination student didn’t stir from his imagination. He wasn’t sure what ideas were running through his mind, but his glass-like heart could tell this walk wasn’t helping in its goal to distract from Halloween night horrors, Suguru’s disgusting plan to eliminate witches for unknown reasons and the anniversary of Akaashi’s death. Since Bokuto had not yet naturally programmed his mind to avoid Kuroo, he unintentionally found himself at the front gate of the Lovely Bones Cemetery, where Kuroo and another guard were working for the night (the witch may or may not have memorized his best friend’s schedule).

 _Crap!_ Koutarou thought hurriedly, finally breaking out of his trance while glancing through the gate. _Kuroo’s working tonight! What if he sees me?! Will he get mad?! What if h—_

A series of crunching noises made Bokuto nearly jump out of his skin, eyes darting over wildly to the source, only to find an unintimidating couple walking past a line of graves. As a way of not scaring the living daylights out of the people, Koutarou hid behind a nearby bush—it was only then that he noticed the front gate unlocked and the second guard standing about fifty-yards away from the couple. Through the darkness Bokuto could tell he was watching, but his stance wasn’t alarmed or concerned over their appearance; apparently, he let them in willingly, despite the rule that guests were not permitted into the graveyard after seven p.m. Kuroo would have done the same thing, as long as he knew they weren’t thugs set out to rob graves like lunatics. Still, the witch had to wonder why this couple was out and about in the early hours of the morning, at a _cemetery_ of all places; thankfully, for Bokuto’s curiosity, the two lampposts sitting at the gate entrance were lit tonight, allowing him a good view of the first row of graves, the A section, where this couple stopped after finding whoever they were searching for. The crunching of the leaves stopped, and Tokyo returned to its quiet silence, as if honoring this moment.

 _It’s kind of weird that the guard let them in_ , Bokuto thought, watching carefully as the man and woman stood in front of a particular headstone. _Maybe they do this every year and he was expecting them or something…Kuroo sometimes mentions the habits of a few surviving family members who visit their loved one’s grave to lay flowers and to talk, like I do. I wonder who these people are visiting…_

The woman to the left of the man slowly raised her gloved hand and slid her hood off, though Koutarou could hardly tell anything had changed on account of her long, pitch-black hair that blended in perfectly with the eerie morning sky bearing over Tokyo. He only recognized the lady’s action when some of the grey hairs sparkled from the lamppost light, though she still seemed younger than whatever age listed; the man closely standing to her right was a bit taller than his wife, body standing proudly, frame lanky and frail-looking. He too, had a mess of black obsidian hair atop his head, though most of those locks were turning severely white, skipping over a shade of grey maybe due to stress. Bokuto found the pair most interesting, and eagerly brought his attention to them as the woman kneeled down slowly, laying a pretty bouquet of pink carnation flowers on the earth beneath the headstone. When Kuroo was going through his “romantic period,” he listed all flowers and their meanings to Koutarou, and the witch remembered that pink carnations meant _I’ll never forget you_. These seemed to be fitting for whoever this couple was visiting. The man linked his arm with the woman’s again as she rose, speaking in a cool, soft, somehow familiar voice that shot right through the witch’s heart when October’s cold wind pushed the phrase to his ears.

 

“We brought you flowers again, Keiji.”

 

Bokuto’s mouth opened only a bit, hanging and trembling as tears burst into his eyes upon remembering what day it was, realizing with a start the exact identity of this lonely couple: the _parents_ of Akaashi Keiji, the student who was struck by a car on this very night twenty-two years before, the current ghost roommate of Bokuto Koutarou, witch in hiding…how had Koutarou never happened to walk past Keiji’s grave in all his visits? How had Kuroo failed to mention such a unique story to him? The grey-haired man felt worse than ever as wetness began dripping off his eyelids effortlessly, Akari’s words piercing his very soul with each syllable.

“This year we picked pink carnations,” His mother continued, voice shockingly steady. “We just wanted to remind you…that we’ll never _ever_ forget you, Keiji. Not even when our time comes, not even after we leave this world and finally meet you again…”

_Why do I always run into sorrow, no matter where I turn?_

“We love you very much, Keiji. We hope you’re happy, wherever you are.”

Akari and Koji Akaashi didn’t hover around the headstone for too long. The witch figured they had done enough of that throughout the past twenty-some years…while brushing his tears away, Bokuto watched his roommate’s parents slowly exit the graveyard without another word, arms linked together snugly as another gust of sharp wind broke through the mess of buildings around them. They disappeared down the street within a minute, and it was only then that Koutarou truly realized the agony of Akaashi’s early death. Twenty-two years later, the wound was still as fresh as ever, his parents still laid flowers on his grave, still spoke to their son, their only child softly, still felt aches inside their chests, could still remember when they were called at six in the morning on a snowy October night, the police trying to explain that their son was in an accident…Bokuto had a good idea of just how deep their sorrows ran. He almost felt _selfish_ for keeping Akaashi’s ghost all to himself for the past month when he could have been encouraging or helping his roommate visit his lonely parents. Time didn’t heal all wounds, it seemed.

The other guard on duty closed the gates shortly after the Akaashi’s departure, ruining Bokuto’s plan to go talk to Keiji’s grave himself; he wiped his tears away quickly and blew air off the palm of his hand, watching as a mist of sparkles drifted through the early morning atmosphere, slipping through the cemetery gates and moving directly towards Akaashi’s grave until they landed on the ground next to the pink carnations. Bokuto thought of every nice flower he had ever seen as the sparkles grew from the soil above Keiji’s coffin, bursting into a colorful bed of petals and vines, creating a beautiful garden around Akari’s bouquet. There were blue bells, daisies, lilies, roses, you name it—every pretty flower he thought of when remembering what his roommate’s face looked like appeared before his very eyes. The sparkles didn’t dim after their original work was over, remaining around the area in glitters and specks, making Akaashi’s headstone look like it was glowing with the brightest shade of moonlight.

“There you go, Akaashi,” Bokuto whispered. “I’m…I’m sorry I…can’t…”

“Yo—was someone just in here?”

Kuroo’s voice alarmed the young witch to the max, and mixed with the angst of Keiji’s situation, Koutarou could only bolt from the scene in a hurry full of hurt feelings. The cat’s conversation drifted away from his hearing as the student sprinted down the sidewalk as fast as he could, hot tears providing him with a distant type of warmth that didn’t lessen his pain. Bokuto ran and ran and ran, like he used to do in the forest when his mom was angry at him for something, like he used to do whenever Kuroo mentioned magic, like he still did whenever he couldn’t handle the idea of someone undeserving being injured as much as he had. He ran without knowing what he was going to do about Suguru, about Kuroo, and about Akaashi. He didn’t even know what he was going to do about himself. Bokuto ran, but he learned long ago that nothing he did could make his problems go away, no matter how far away he was from them. The streets were getting brighter the deeper he went into Tokyo, although his world had never looked so dark before—this was difficult for the witch to believe, as he thought nothing could ever top the horrible things his mother did to him, and yet…here he was, sprinting through the streets of Tokyo with tears in his eyes and more problems than ever before.

 

In a moment of irony and something similar to fate, Bokuto stopped running, opened his eyes and found himself standing before the _Crow’s Nest_ crosswalk, right across from the memorial of Akaashi Keiji.

 

There were two tiny lights on near the framed picture of Akaashi, one Koutarou had seen in almost every article about his ghost crush where the black-haired beauty had his elbows leaning over a stand (a typical 90’s senior pose), chin in his hand, a loose, tiny, but cool and collected smile on his pale lips. His hair was a tidy mess atop his head, the same style as Bokuto remembered, felt, desired to feel once more—even across the street he saw this picture in great detail, and it broke his heart, as if there were a few undamaged pieces remaining. A gasp captured Koutarou’s air duct, trapping oxygen inside when he glanced left, seeing the very same building Keiji saw over twenty-years ago, only now there were no pretty colors, no magic glass balls, no magic of any kind to distract the witch. The building was abandoned, left vacated and rotting away like it had been nothing from the beginning, every window boarded and every door busted in—never again would anyone die as Akaashi did. The city made sure of it. Bokuto didn’t think that was true, because people still died when they were young, even if they weren’t distracted while crossing a street in the early hours of an October morning. He didn’t blame anyone. There wasn’t really anyone to blame, not when the roads were snowy that night, not when Akaashi didn’t notice the crosswalk sign change, not when the hypnosis store was meant to be pretty and bright to attract customers.

It was good there was no blame…but that didn’t stop the pain.

Bokuto hardly realized he was sobbing as he sprinted across the lonely crosswalk, gasping for air as his mind struggled against instinct; he didn’t _want_ to see, but the second his foot touched the exact spot where Akaashi was struck, he suddenly saw flashes of that night, the impact of the hit, the police tape, the crying faces, the blood stain in the snow bank where Keiji lay dying. The witch shook his head and shut his eyes tightly to push the grizzly images away, resulting in him tripping over the curve and crashing onto the pavement right at the foot of Keiji’s memorial site. His knees scraped against the harsh pavement, tearing at the skin through his jeans, but he didn’t have any pain left to feel. His golden eyes opened wide, locked onto the sorrowful sight of flowers, letters, other ornaments covering the small table that held the framed picture of Akaashi. Apparently other students had already begun remembering him over the past few days, despite never knowing him personally. It both hurt Bokuto and healed him seeing that other people were so kind as to lay flowers before Keiji—the hurt portion arrived because he figured those same souls hated _creatures_ like him who supposedly inavertedly caused Akaashi’s untimely death.

“I’m s-sorry,” Koutarou cried, grabbing onto his chest. “I d-don’t know w-what to _do_ …”

The witch slid his trembling hand inside the jacket, and it came out holding a small bouquet of holly flowers.

“H-Here you go, Akaashi…”

Bokuto laid the flowers down as a few hot tears dripped out, though he made certain they didn’t fall on Keiji’s memorial. The flowers stood out from the other collections of dark colored roses, sitting prettily in the center, almost like a wedding decoration; the divination student forced himself to stand before the set-up, knowing he really had no right to be sad about this when he didn’t know Akaashi until after his death…it was better to be proud, happy to honor Keiji and his short, but fulfilling life. _I wish I could stop his hurting_ , Bokuto thought sadly, despite his new stance. _He’s been awfully distant over the past few days, not that I blame him…if only I could make him proud by coming up with a plan to defeat Suguru all by myself. That would make him happy. I wish I could do every spell effortlessly. That’s what he would do, if Akaashi had been a witch during his time…_

Koutarou sighed deeply, wiping a few of his lingering tears away.

_But…Akaashi says I’m not alone anymore. He’ll help me…he’s just going through a tough time right now. I’ll help him, and then he can help me defeat Suguru. Kuroo may be avoiding me because I told him to, but I’ve got Keiji! He’ll help me. I just have to figure out a way to help him first…_

A sudden presence alerted Bokuto back to reality. He turned his head to see none other than Koji and Akari Akaashi standing to his right, staring at him with curious gazes.

“Uh—I—Sorry!” The student rushed, getting a grip on his emotions and shuffling a few feet away. “I w-was…I was just…”

“No need to cry anymore, dear.”

Bokuto looked up, daring to peer into a familiar pair of shimmering eyes as Akaashi’s mother’s words sunk in. _Jeez, were his parents models or something? That explains his appearance, but seriously—it can’t be legal for such attractive people to have a kid together. It’s not fair!_

“Huh?” He sniffed in confusion.

“It’s been many years since Keiji’s passing,” She re-phrased thoughtfully, smiling over at the memorial. “There’s no need for tears anymore.”

“O-Oh—right,” Koutarou nodded eagerly, unable to look away from the curve of her jaw, all too similar to her late son’s. “I just…can’t really help it sometimes. I’m an emotional wreck.”

A gentle laugh escaped both their lips, shocking Bokuto into giving a tiny smile of his own; while the witch expected the cold wind to be the last cold atmosphere he would be worried about, standing next to Keiji’s still living and grieving parents, the aura coming from the Akaashi’s was only bittersweet. They didn’t seem to resent this random college student for crying over their son’s grave when he hadn’t even come _close_ to knowing him like they did. Koutarou was thankful. He probably couldn’t handle getting chewed out right now.

“You remind me of our Keiji,” His father’s cool voice said. “Despite his serious attitude, when he got into something he _really_ got into it.”

“He’s really great,” Bokuto replied accidentally. “I mean—he seems…like he was a really great kid.”

“Mm…that he was,” Akari nodded. Her lucid gaze fell to the new set of flowers Koutarou had laid down, and she stared at them for a moment before asking “What kind of flowers are those?”

“Oh…they’re holly.”

“What do they mean?”

_Everything Akaashi makes me feel. Everything he is, stands for, helps me see no matter how screwed I am in a certain situation. They’re light, just like his eyelashes. They’re not too flashy, just like his snarky personality. Holly is simple, but complicated. They look innocent, but they’re also holding secrets of their own. They’re almost like ghosts with their tiny petals, unassuming, confident and pretty. Very pretty. They aren’t easily killed by the harshest of winters, nor the hottest of summers. They help me, like Akaashi does. They give me…_

“Hope.”

The entire atmosphere of the night altered, and Bokuto’s lips curved into a tiny, hesitant little smile as he glanced over at Akari and Koji, who stared at him for a moment before nodding and giving smiles of their own. The cold air didn’t seem so cold after their silent agreement, attention turning back to the handsome picture of Akaashi sitting atop the precious shrine, now glowing with a new light, one with less sorrow and more cheerfulness. Naturally, with the slightly awkward silence, Koutarou had to say something stupid.

“He’s really pretty.”

Koji raised an eyebrow, but chose not to look over as his wife giggled.

“I—I mean—as pretty as a guy can be, you know!” Bokuto tried to cover up.

“He wasn’t very interested in personal relationships, though,” Akari informed him. “Keiji told me he could never marry someone exactly like him, because they would bore each other to death. It would have been interesting to see him fall in love…they would have had to be someone incredibly special.”

The witch hid his blush by bowing suddenly to Akaashi’s parents. Not that his ghost roommate was in love with him or anything, it was just embarrassing because he was probably in love with their very deceased son who died over twenty-years ago…

“I have to be going, now, but it was very nice to meet you. I hope you have a nice day, and I hope you’re able to find peace someday. Akaashi is in a good place—you don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

“That’s kind of you to say,” Akari nodded. “You have a nice day as well. Get some rest.”

“Goodnight.”

Bokuto gave them one of his best smiles and finally turned away after giving one last bow to Keiji’s shrine. The Akaashi’s watched as the student disappeared into the night, now skipping with content feelings as his breath finally made its way back into his lungs. He decided closure was healthy during the path of redemption, and wondered how long it took Akari and Koji to come to terms with their child’s death; was this the first year they could speak to his headstone without tears? Was this the first time they had spoken to some stranger about him? Keiji’s curiosity was rubbing off on his roomie. Or maybe Bokuto was just curious to know more about his crush, his old life, why he was still lingering in between worlds after many years of wandering…maybe this anniversary was the key to guiding him towards the light.

 _Jeez, let’s not think about THAT right now_ , Koutarou shook his head, hurrying along as the wind became colder and colder. _Akaashi wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, anyway. Let’s focus on Halloween night. Yeah! After today is over, we can formulate a plan and I can practice my defensive spells a lot, like I have been—I’ll also practice some seemingly useless spells in case I need to trap Suguru in a jar or something. Just help Akaashi through this morning, first; he’ll need my help if he wan—_

Hearing voices, Bokuto cut-off his thoughts to glance over his shoulder and see whoever was speaking. When he focused his vision and brightened a Halloween decoration near the two individuals for a better view, his skipping halted, as did the beating of his heart. The witch wouldn’t have paid them any mind, had he not recognized two certain people he knew very well:

 _Kuroo_ , still dressed in his black graveyard uniform, was standing on a street corner with none other than his step-brother, _Daishou Suguru_. They were smiling and laughing at something the latter said, without a care in the world that it was the early hours of the morning and absolutely freezing cold out. Koutarou knew he wasn’t hallucinating this time. _Kuroo_ , his best friend in the _entire world_ was _laughing_ and _joking_ with his _evil step brother_ , a step brother he _hated_ , _despised_ so much it almost made him _sick_! He was skipping out on his guard duty to spend time with Daishou? As unreal as the scene sounded, Bokuto knew damn well what he saw right before his golden eyes was true, and once that realization hit home, an angry burning erupted inside his soul, causing his face to darken drastically and almost all the streetlamps on his side of the street flicker fiercely, like a scene out of a horror movie. Kuroo had really went this far? After all he said about Daishou, he was turning his back on Bokuto just because he advised he stay away, just because they had a small lover’s spat? Did twenty-plus years of friendship mean nothing anymore?

Apparently not.

“But seriously, though, are you sure you don’t wanna come to the party tonight?” Kuroo asked Suguru. “I’ll be snoozing all day, but we could get ready at about nine.”

“I would like that, but I’ve got some paperwork to do at the store,” Daishou sighed, like it was such an inconvenience for him to own a popular building. “My dad gets pissed at me if I don’t turn everything in on time.”

“Ahh, that’s too bad—demonologists really know how to prank on Halloween, you know?”

“Maybe next year I’ll pop in for a scare.”

“You wouldn’t have to wear a costume! You’ve already got the fangs going on, I see, and I bet you have some snake-like tail hidden under your jeans.”

“Yes, but it’s the kind of tail on the _front_ of your body.”

Tetsurou snorted over his laughter at that reference, unaware that a mixture of furious jealously and deep betrayal was coursing through Bokuto’s chest as he watched the pair from half a block away, fists tightening at his sides. The witch had never felt so… _infuriated_ before. Was this what it felt like to discover that your husband is cheating on you? Every Halloween decoration on his side of the street continued to flicker, but Kuroo and Daishou didn’t so much as glance over, too caught-up in their own little happy family world—Bokuto couldn’t believe this was what it had come to. October was really fucking him over this year, but if that was how life would treat him, so be it. There was no sympathy left inside his heart in this moment, overcome by a rush of absolute anger and a bitter kind of pain he hadn’t felt since Kuroo ate the chocolate pudding cup out of his lunchbox in the third grade. A hot breath with hues of orange and yellow exited Koutarou’s nostrils before he opened his mouth and began speaking to Suguru and his _ex_ -best friend.

 

“Listen here, scum,” The witch whispered, pushing his words into a gust of wind so they magically found their way to the subconscious of both boys. “The evil eye will find its way to you this Halloween night. Listen to what I say: no charms, no potions, no magic in the _world_ could save you from the wrath of a witch trapped in captivity. You will hear my song come the eve of All Hollow’s Night, and you will not escape its grasp, nor will your darkness succeed in capturing its tune; you have committed the worst of crimes, and the end of October will not be kind to your type, as it has not been kind to me until this very occasion. This is my reaper’s promise to you—prepare yourselves for the darkest of nights, and have a haunted Halloween.”

 

Bokuto didn’t know where any of that came from, but he knew damn well his heart meant every word, and he knew the boys had heard this conviction as well, seeing how Kuroo began casually glancing around to find the source. His eyes never discovered the witch hidden in the suddenly pitch-dark side of Tokyo, and Suguru decided they had better be leaving.

“You better get back to your shift,” The snake suggested, turning them around in the direction of the cemetery. “Don’t want people running off with bones, now. That’s a bad omen.”

“Right, right.”

 _Trust me, Suguru—missing bones aren’t as bad an omen as what I just did_.

“Where are you headed, Dai?”

“I think I’ll head to the shop. Bokuto’s not working today, so I’ll have my hands full.”

“You’re a dedicated boss; getting up at five in the morning to do _paperwork_?”

Suguru laughed that sickening laugh as Kuroo strode a few steps ahead of his pace, Koutarou still watching from a street down; just as he was sure the disgusting sight of the step-brothers would be gone in a short minute, the witch was infuriated further by seeing Daishou turn his head (at an impossible angle, may I add) almost fully around so his glowing snake eyes could look _exactly_ at his worker. The non-human smirk on his poisonous lips made Bokuto want to gag, especially when that snake-like tongue slithered out to moisten their surface, those illuminated eyes staring a hole through the student’s head. No words or even a whisper escaped his mouth, but those lips curved into a sadistic smile before Suguru turned forward again, leaving Koutarou behind in the total darkness as the lights on their side went out as well. Kuroo didn’t seem to notice, and the pair walked out of sight, leaving Bokuto with his dark suspicions and a single candle to his left, which he lit immediately before rushing back home to his ghostly roommate.

~~~-~~~

“Akaashi!” Bokuto hollered as he barged into his apartment near five-thirty-five in the morning. “I saw Suguru and Kuroo, _together_ , and Suguru looked at me and I’m pretty sure he’s a friggin _witch_ , Akaashi, he looked at me really funny!!! Akaashi?!”

Only when Koutarou stopped his booming steps did he notice the freezing temperature of the apartment, the thermostat going haywire while sad, wet-sounding sobs echoed through the living room, although Keiji was nowhere to be found. The witch lowered his aura and entered the room, carefully glancing around in hopes of finding a blurry figure standing at the window or sitting on the couch. It had almost been fifteen-hours since he last saw his pretty roommate, and he was starting to become very worried for Akaashi’s paranormal energy.

“…Akaashi,” He repeated, softer this time. “Please come out.”

“I-It h- _hurts_ ,” The spirit’s voice cried, form still not appearing. “W-Why d-does it— _hurt_?”

“I…I don’t know, ‘Kaashi, but…will you come out, please? I can’t help you if you won’t show me.”

Suddenly, a pale, very weak and flickering figure appeared, huddled on the couch as Keiji was bawling into his knees, grasping at his stomach like someone had stabbed him with a dagger. His energy level must have been fluctuating from the stress, the human memories, everything about this night…Bokuto’s mood did a 360 flip as he rushed over to Akaashi, sitting down beside him and mumbling an energy spell that would either aid or injure his crush’s current situation. The nearly invisible form became thicker, but the temperature remained the same, fluttering around both boys like someone left a window open in the middle of winter.

“What hurts, Akaashee? Is it your stomach? I’ve got some pepto-bismol in the bathroom!”

Keiji only cried harder at that.

“Is it…Is it just the memories?” Bokuto tried again, rubbing the ghost’s ice cold back in comfort. “Is it just those, Keiji?”

“H- _Hurts_ …”

This was an entirely different side of Akaashi the witch had never seen before; the night he first saw the ghost was probably the closest he ever came to seeing him so distraught like this. Sure, Keiji re-lived the accident every morning at 5:55 a.m., but today, on the anniversary, how much did those memories increase in power? _What does he need?_ Koutarou wondered frantically, goosebumps rising as Keiji continued to sob. _What do all ghosts need? Closure. Closure. That’s what he needs. But…how do I give that to him?! Think, think, think…he re-lives the accident every night, but maybe if…_

“Keiji—come with me.”

When the spirit didn’t move, _couldn’t_ move, Bokuto took it upon himself to lift his roommate up and throw his coat over the shivering, but no longer translucent figure. His instincts were telling him to help his crush in every way possible, even if those ways were impossible to others—if he had the power, he was going to use it for good. He was going to help Akaashi face his biggest fears, like he so often helped Bokuto do throughout the month of October. Kuroo used a method similar to this oh so long ago, worlds away when his bestie’s cruel mother was still alive…he didn’t have magic that would help him really paint a picture, but his plan worked the same, giving the owlish boy a third-person perspective on the current situation to help him see that he was not the person in the wrong, here. Bokuto would try and attempt the same thing today.

“I’ll help you, ‘Kaashi,” Koutarou promised, holding onto the ghost’s slender hand tightly. “Just hold on tight. Okay?”

Akaashi nodded weakly, and Bokuto mumbled a spell under his breath.

In a flash of white, the pair found themselves on the street corner where the witch had been not even an hour before, speaking to the victim’s parents before the shrine of Akaashi Keiji. The morning sun still had not begun to rise, providing them with the same darkness that set a mood perfectly for what Bokuto had planned; before Keiji could get a grip on his whirlwind of emotions, Koutarou was going to show him something. It wasn’t a memory from either of their deepest corners, it wasn’t an image or even a memory of anyone else’s design: in divination studies, they called it _transcending copies_. What they would soon see was a recording of sorts, a scene from the world’s perspective as years flash by. As long as Bokuto knew the exact date and time, he could probably find this particular scene and play it for Akaashi, who shivered beside him, despite his paranormal state.

“I’m going to show you something, Akaashi—okay?”

Koutarou didn’t wait for an answer, and focused his mind before whispering another spell under his breath—the ghost beside him immediately turned still and silent, prompting Bokuto to open his eyes.

The street corners were all the same, but it was obvious they were no longer in 2018; on the cement below their feet, the witch noticed a date and time that matched what he had been picturing not only a second before. _October 28 th, 1996_: _5:39 A.M_. Bokuto glanced around quickly, taking note of the same shops, the same street signs, the same feel, only with a little vintage flare, and…he also noticed the library across from where he and Akaashi stood. They were kitty-corner from it this time around, standing to the left of the hypnotist shop that shined brighter than ever in the darkness of the October night. Snow banks were here and there, little flakes beginning to fall once more from Japan’s early morning sky…everything felt different from this particular angle, including the up-coming scene Bokuto had never completely watched until now, with the quiet victim by his side. The ghost seemed to understand what was going on, but Koutarou elaborated anyway, talking in a hushed whisper under his breath.

“October 28th, 1996.” He stated. “Near 5:40 in the morning…Tokyo. Wow—those lights really are beautiful, aren’t they?”

The witch wanted to kick his own ass for saying something so utterly stupid and insensitive, but he saw Keiji nod beside him, his own glimmering eyes staring mindlessly at the hypnosis lights like all those years before. They only had a moment to take in the atmosphere before the front doors of the _Crow’s Nest_ library opened, and a familiar college student exited with his bookbag filled to the brim with books.

Akaashi remained silent as Bokuto’s mouth fell open, heart exploding from the unexpected glow of cuteness from his roommate’s human form. In death, Akaashi was beautiful—in life, he was enlightening. Something about his evenly taken steps, his simple clothing choices that accented his figure nicely, the pretty midnight blue color of his scarf, the way the moonlight reflected off the pale shade of his bare hands, not yet beaten red by the cold. Or maybe it wasn’t in his appearance at all, but the manner of attitude, cool and collected, fatigued, but pleased with tonight’s learnings—either way, Bokuto was sure he had just solidified his love for Keiji, ghost roommate and ex-student at Tokyo Terror University.

“I was sort of graceful, wasn’t I?” Keiji sniffled to no one in particular.

“Mhm…”

The night was eerily quiet as living Akaashi adjusted his bookbag strap before pausing at the crosswalk, waiting only a second before the walking light turned green, counting down from twenty-seconds as he stepped onto the road. How could everything change so quickly?

Koutarou tensed beside his crush, suddenly terrified at what was to come; Akaashi seemed totally at peace as the moment came that would change his life forever, eyes catching sight of something flickering brightly to his left. Bokuto took a sharp breath as both Keiji and his ghost let themselves be sucked in by the beauty of the hypnosis shop, the attractive twinkling lights, the magic glass ball stirring up all sorts of colors, the display inviting customers to come inside and feel the magic. If the witch had been wandering on this night twenty-two years ago, he might have been included in the crash himself, as his attention was entirely fixated on Akaashi’s expression of wonder and admiration. How could that look change in such a short amount of time? How was this humanly possible, for fate to arrive so suddenly, a grim reaper at its side?

It took Bokuto a second to register the sound of a car coming from somewhere to their left, knowing where it would turn and how their life would change as well, on this freezing night in October; Keiji had stopped his walking, perfectly in the middle of the crosswalk, now, unable to tear his star-struck gaze away from the twinkling lights. Beside the witch, Akaashi the ghost was still silent and frozen in time, though he finally managed to look from the shop to the body paused on the street. Bokuto almost wanted to scream out, but knew this was merely a replay of what happened, not time travel—nothing could undo the past, and for good reason.

They could only watch as the very car Koutarou remembered from the articles came speeding down the street, clicking their left turn signal on when the streetlight turned green.

Keiji never saw the car coming, couldn’t even take his eyes off the store until it was too late, until the screeching of the brakes broke through the sound barrier, but even then, the wheels could not stop, skipping over an icy patch and heading directly for Akaashi. The driver tried turning left further, in hopes of avoiding the young man stopped in the road, but to no avail—Bokuto flinched violently and let a tear fall out in surprise when the SUV connected with Akaashi’s body, _smashing_ into him directly, sending the frail body flying into a snowbank covering the sidewalk, a few feet to the right from where his shrine would be twenty-two years later. It was a scene too horrifying to be included in a movie. All the magic in the air hovered with uncertainty, listening in while Akaashi plummeted into the pile of snow, blood immediately overcoming the white color as the SUV struggled to stop even after striking Keiji, going a few more blocks before finally screeching to a halt. The man jumped out immediately, but Bokuto wasn’t paying any attention, too transfixed with the new color spectrum now covering the front portion of Keiji’s struggling body. Heavier snowflakes had started falling from the sky, drifting downwards to the ground gracefully, landing on Akaashi’s limp body as he quietly lay dying. The witch saw his bloody left hand flicker, like he tried reaching towards the sky in hopes of catching a snowflake, but following that short, weak movement, Keiji’s body remained still. The clock in a nearby store window read 5:45 a.m.

“I wasn’t cold at all,” Akaashi whispered beside Bokuto.

“Yeah,” Koutarou sniffled as the driver came sprinting down the street. “Y-You look… _at peace_.”

For the next ten minutes, as the driver hurriedly called 911 and rushed over to aid Akaashi Keiji, the ghost and his companion watched the snowfall. The large, fluffy flakes melted upon touching the organized mess of blood covering Akaashi’s abdomen area, where the SUV grill had struck him; they couldn’t hear what words the male driver was saying to him, but it didn’t matter anyway. Snow was falling like Christmas Day, a bittersweet sight over Keiji’s last scene, the glimmer of those midnight blue hued eyes never dying out, even as the lids closed around them for good.

 

When the ambulance arrived, the clock turned to 5:55; Akaashi took his final breath, and the scene faded away.

 

Bokuto blinked once, dizzy from the change of scenery as they found themselves standing in the exact same spot, only in 2018, side by side, all alone as the sky above them became hazy, hinting at an upcoming weather pattern. The witch had seen death before, but…those were the deaths of fictional characters in movies. This was the death of someone he _knew_ , and he had watched it happen. It was as sick as it was sad. He hurriedly turned to Akaashi, hoping he hadn’t unintentionally driven him to madness, making him an evil spirit that would be the subject of horror movies if his pranks turned deadly. He just hoped his crush would see things from a different light, and maybe that scenery change would push away the agony of Akaashi’s past experience, if only for a day. Keiji looked adorable in the witch’s large winter coat, and there were dried tears on his cheeks, but despite that…

“Thank you, Koutarou.”

_Wow. He should say my name more often._

“I know it seems foolish of me, b-but…ever since my passing, I’ve always tried avoiding those memories every year, even knowing it would grant me closure, because…well…I guess I wasn’t ready to leave.” Keiji admitted, head down. “The build-up of those sorrowful memories only makes the pain greater on this day, and n-no matter what I tried...I couldn’t seem to run away from my past life. But…I can see now, a-and I think I may have known for a while, that I…was lying to myself. About being at peace…I just was never ready to leave it all behind.”

“You aren’t going to leave right now, are you?!” Koutarou asked in a total panic, grabbing onto the other’s sleeve.

“Of course not,” The ghost sniffled. “I still have unfinished business with Suguru-san.”

Akaashi suddenly slid his long arms underneath Koutarou’s, pulling him forward so their fronts pressed together as he hugged his roommate tightly.

“T-Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

It didn’t take longer than a second for Bokuto to hug back, overwhelming the ghost’s physical form with his warmth and comfort (despite only having a hoodie on), as well as messing with his mind after feeling those strong biceps pull him closer.

“It’s no problem! Thanks for letting me, well…see everything. …Um…by the way…I accidentally met your parents tonight, and I may have let it slip that, um…I…think you’re…pretty.”

“I already knew you thought that.”

Keiji released a soft laugh, because even though he couldn’t see Koutarou’s face, he knew he was pouting.

“Anyway…I…I did that because I just wanted to let you know, Akaashi, that as long as your time on this earth lasts, I’m going to do my best to make you as happy as a ghost can be. No matter what! But…try not to cry again, okay? I was really scared when you were crying, which I understand, totally, but even though I cry like, every day, I don’t really like seeing other people cry. I’ll do my best to stop you from crying, too.”

“That reminds me,” Keiji said, taking a short step back as a rush of affection hit him harshly. “When you came home tonight…you mentioned Suguru being a witch? Is that really true?”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough, hm?”

The pair stood in silence for a moment, letting this dooming information sink in as little snowflakes began to fall all around them.

“We’re going to earn your rights back, Bokuto-san,” The ghost sniffled confidently. “We’ll defeat Suguru and save your friends…and when it’s all over, you won’t have to hide anymore.”

“Well of course, ‘Kaashi!” Bokuto cheered, throwing an arm around Keiji and roughly pulling him in. “I’ve got a _plan_!”

“And I’d love to hear it, but for now…can we…”

“Stand here hugging and watch the snow fall? Sure!”

 

Akaashi didn’t sigh at his roommate’s antics like usual. Instead, he agreed with a short nod and let himself feel human with Bokuto the witch as the snow fell gently from the dark morning sky, quietly honoring the death of university student Akaashi Keiji, from twenty-two years ago, who, although he was no more, still affected the lives of many others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chap is trash ik ik...but I couldn't figure out anything else to add or change, so I guess it'll stay as a filler chap. All secrets (and more) will be revealed on Halloween night....if I were you, I would be there.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> \--Bodhi


	10. The Exorcist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hashtag has not been edited HAPPY HALLOWEEN U DEMONS

_Wednesday, October 31 st_

_Halloween_

By Halloween Day, Tokyo was in a roar of excitement and nerves, as ten people had already been taken into custody for witch accusations while defending groups were protesting in front of the police station. It became clear that many more would be discovered or accused come nightfall, as children would notice which of their friends hadn’t dared to come with for trick or treating, thus, inavertedly exposing themselves as magical beings. Bokuto worried at a moderate level, managing to hide his disdain by practicing his magic religiously, going through every possible spell in the case he might need it during the fight with Suguru, whatever the hell he was. Akaashi had been helpful as well, encouraging Bokuto and boosting his ego by subtle compliments and sly little romantic gestures; he had also “prepared” his roommate by pulling Halloween pranks on him again, such as replacing the shower rug with a white one that turned Koutarou’s footprints bloody when he stepped on it, putting a “doll on the wall” and sticking fake spiders in all the witch’s socks.

_“It’ll toughen you up for surprises,” Akaashi claimed after Bokuto screeched and smacked the doll away._

The divination student actually appreciated these horrifying gestures, as Suguru had already surprised him on more occasions than he could count this month; nothing would change come Halloween Night, the dreaded day where all evil in the world supposedly came out to party and haunt the living. Bokuto believed in every terrifying story he had ever read, from the goblins to the ghosts to the demons, although he was a little pouty when he realized his category technically counted towards those stories. At least the ghost he knew didn’t harass the elderly with visions of death and such.

Probably.

“Good morning, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi greeted, popping up beside Bokuto as he sat down at the kitchen table near eleven in the morning. “Happy Halloween.”

“Yeah. Happy Halloween alright…”

“What would you like for breakfast?” The spirit asked. “You need to keep your strength up for tonight.”

“What did I ever do to deserve such a dedicated wife?”

Keiji raised a challenging eyebrow at that statement and Bokuto wilted, rubbing the back of his messy hair sheepishly.

“Um…I’ve got some orange pancake mix in the cupboard, if you wanna make those. There’s even black syrup that comes with it!”

Akaashi located the mix and began throwing the ingredients together, humming as he did so to create a calm atmosphere—it was crucial that Bokuto start his day positively, and the ghost was dead set on acting confident and cool in hopes the aura would rub off on his roomie, although the appearance of Koutarou in his orange and black pajamas with his spikey hair all messed-up shook his spirit a bit (no pun intended)…Keiji collected himself quickly while mixing the orange pancake batter.

“What song are you humming?”

“Mm…I don’t know what it’s called. I heard you listening to it the day you moved in.”

“Oh yeah! The one from _Corpse Bride_!” Bokuto remembered. Seriously, though, how did he look so fucking adorable with those dorky black-cat pattered pajamas and messy hair? “I can sing really well, you know.”

“So I hear.”

“Akaashee, it’s true! Here, listen—”

“Help me with these first, okay?” Keiji interrupted the second Koutarou opened his mouth.

“Fine, fine…but after that we’re having a Halloween serenade.”

Akaashi meant to hide his smile, but he had a feeling Bokuto saw by the way he grinned as well, scooping orange pancake batter up and carefully dumping it onto the hot surface. The pair were content to be quiet for a few moments, sharing accidental nudges, secret glances and deep thoughts before the first few pancakes were finished, after which Koutarou skillfully flipped them over to his plate.

“Wow, I can’t believe that worked,” He snorted, stacking one more on top so he had a pile of three. “Do you want any, ‘Kaashi?”

“No thank you.”

Keiji appreciated the fact that Bokuto asked, despite knowing very well that ghosts didn’t eat or drink; the witch doused an unhealthy amount of syrup onto his stack and sat down, digging in without reveling in the aesthetically pleasing appearance of the pancakes. Akaashi leaned against the counter in amusement, trying and failing to ignore the warmth growing in his chest at this strange little sight of a steroid-using owl stuffing his cheeks with orange pancakes. Koutarou didn’t realize he was being watched until he chewed his last bite and glanced up to see what the ghost was up to, upon which he blushed and ducked his head back down.

“Whaaaat?” Bokuto whined, embarrassed at the ghost’s stares.

“Nothing,” Akaashi shrugged innocently. “Just watching.”

“Another ghost fetish, I guess?”

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes, turning away as Koutarou laughed loudly.

“So—I’ve got work at noon to five today.” The witch sighed, face furrowing as he mentally went over their plan again. “Once I get off I’ll come home and we can wait for a few hours, since the meeting doesn’t start until ten; we’ll use the attachment spell and go into the forest to find the cave.”

“Then we’ll stop Suguru, comfort the other magical creatures and go home.” Akaashi finished simply.

“Right. Let’s hope it’s that easy…”

“It’ll be fine, Bokuto-san,” The ghost assured him with an unwavering gaze. “Don’t worry. Halloween Night provides the highest amount of power for those who have it.”

“Yeah…let’s just hope Suguru isn’t included in that list.”

Bokuto went quiet as they cleaned up the kitchen together, but since the air hadn’t become anxious or fluttering, Keiji decided to leave him be, sitting on the couch looking through spell books as his roommate showered and got ready for work. He came out of the bathroom wearing a black shirt with a cute little owl wearing a witch hat on its head, a navy blue jacket and light-colored jeans with converse sneakers—in other words, he looked a little _too_ good for Akaashi, who needed a moment to control his energy before addressing the taller boy.

“That’s your Halloween costume?”

“Yeah, isn’t it great?!” Bokuto asked, sticking his hip out like a model pose. “Kuroo got it for me last Halloween—I even have owl socks to match the shirt!”

“Very nice.”

Koutarou bounced his way over to Akaashi, who stood from his spot on the couch to face his friend and crush—once the witch left for work, the plan would be in motion. There was no turning back, no bitching out and no losing to Suguru. They _couldn’t_ lose. They _wouldn’t_ lose, not with how hard Bokuto had been working to bring back his intense level of magic, the kind he once had as a child; this had to be the first victory against those who were prejudice against magic users, beginning with Daishou, for whatever reason he seemed to dislike witches and all their friends. Bokuto seemed to finally understand how important his role was on this Halloween night, releasing a deep breath as he stood a few inches away from Keiji.

“Have a good day at work, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi nodded with a small smile, fixing the collar of the other’s jacket. “Be your regular energetic self, give out lots of candy and be civil towards Suguru-san.”

“Right,” Bokuto nodded a few times. “Just…be myself.”

“I’ll be waiting for you when you come home. Okay?”

“Okay. Got it. Um…thanks, Akaashi. For…well, pretty much everything.”

The owlish man tugged the ghost in for a tight hug, the type Keiji had come to anticipate with great joy as he returned the gesture as well as able.

“You’re welcome.”

That familiar grin found its way back to Bokuto’s lips as he separated himself from Akaashi, hurrying towards the door with his lanyard just as Keiji remembered something.

“By the way, Bokuto-san—what grade did you get on your report?”

The owlish man winked before opening the door.

“A plus plus.”

The spirit sighed to himself for no reason, listening as Bokuto shut the door and hurried down the hall, eager for the day to be over with already—it was only natural instinct that caused this reaction, as Halloween had been kind to the witch maybe once throughout his entire life. He hoped tonight would be the second occasion and hurried outside into a relatively warm course of late autumn wind; while Koutarou was speed walking down the sidewalk, his cell phone began ringing loudly, scaring himself and several other citizens as they walked by. Someone was calling him.

_ Call from: Kitty Kat Kuroo _

“Sorry, Kuroo, but I’m in no mood for chatting today.” Bokuto sighed stiffly, turning his phone off without answering. He didn’t have time for distractions and excuses today. As much as he loved his best friend, there was a lot he had to accomplish on his own tonight—the witch didn’t want to be weak anymore, didn’t want to be the one depending on his friends for everything every single October. Akaashi made him see that he wasn’t alone, but some details depended entirely on Bokuto, and for once, he was happy about it. Kuroo would be proud of him after today. Hopefully, _everyone_ would be proud of him after today.

Despite the intensity surrounding Bokuto, the streets of Tokyo were pretty lively and cheerful, children already suited up in their costumes and running around to locate the best candy suppliers. There didn’t seem to be any accidentally matching costumes this year (last time a fight almost broke out in the _Ghoulish_ shop because two pairs of friends dressed-up as Chewbacca and Han Solo), and Koutarou let out a tiny smile when he saw a few daring boys wearing witch outfits, complete with green, long-nailed gloves and square shoes. The store was already bustling with customers when he arrived, sneaking into the back without being spotted by Suguru at the register; the witch hung his things up and smoothed down his shirt before taking a deep, calming breath.

“It’ll all be fine,” He whispered to himself, for once, not lying. “Just get through the day hour by hour. Everything will be fine.”

 

Following one last nod, Bokuto exited the back room and entered the shop.

 

“Afternoon, Bokuto.” Suguru smiled after handing an elderly woman her potion. “Care to watch the register for a second?”

“Sure thing.”

Daishou’s aura was ice cold as he brushed past Koutarou, but the witch purposely ignored it and instead turned his attention to the children who had entered the store loudly, immediately running up to the register where all the candy was sitting in a bowl.

“Bokuto-san, hey!”

“Hey guys! You’ve already got your costumes on?”

“I wear mine all day long!” The blonde boy dressed as Pikachu said proudly as the kids all held their buckets out, grinning when Bokuto dropped a generous amount of candy inside. “Hey Bokuto—are you afraid of magic?”

“Not at all. What about you guys?”

“I don’t see the big deal—magic is _cool_! Don’t you think so, Yachi-chan?”

The girl dressed as Kiki looked nervous at this mention of magic, ducking her head and blushing to avoid answering the question; when Koutarou reached out to throw some candy in her pumpkin candy holder, his large fingers accidently brushed her tiny ones. Bokuto’s mood lifted and fell at the exact same time, looking at Yachi with large eyes as she peered up, equally surprised as him when their touch resulted in a colorful spark shocking both tips of their fingers, as if by _magic_. The other boys were oblivious to this act, hurrying towards the front door with their too-large costumes dragging behind them.

“Come on, Yachi, we gotta go next door for more candy!”

Yachi couldn’t move on her own, too shocked by what had just happened to take a single breath, big doe eyes blown back as she stared up at the taller witch standing in front of the register with her. Bokuto recovered faster, lowering his voice quietly and reaching out to gently pat her head through the witch hat.

“Don’t worry, Yachi-chan. It’ll all be okay.”

After Koutarou winked at her, Yachi seemed to understand the situation fully—her brown eyes lit up with excitement, and she quickly bowed to him in thanks, seemingly no longer afraid now that she had met another one of her kind.

“H-Happy Halloween, Bokuto-san!”

“Have fun!”

Yachi was almost in tears over how excited she was as she followed after the group of children and hurried to the next store for candy; Bokuto just wanted to squeeze her and tell her everything would be okay, but he figured that wasn’t appropriate since she wasn’t actually his daughter, despite the turn his imagination took when their fingers touched. He quickly glanced around, ensuring no other customer had witnessed their magical little moment before turning around and coming face to face with—

“So, Bokuto-san,” Daishou said, strolling over to the register. “What are your plans for the night?”

“I’m not sure! Probably just gunna hang-out with Kuroo again…what about you?”

“Mm…I think I’m in the mood for a witch hunt.” The boss laughed cruelly. “Just kidding.”

“Haha.”

It was painfully obvious that the two were onto each other, but Bokuto managed to play it cool and distract himself by helping a customer, though he couldn’t escape the haunting gaze of Suguru. Those slitted eyes followed him wherever he went (the divination student forced himself not to go into the bathroom, even though his bladder was nearly exploding), never giving Koutarou a break to think freely without wondering if someone was looking into his mind. This was how the entire day proceeded, noon to five, when the sun had already set on Halloween night, triggering a herd of children and their parents walking down the streets of Tokyo ready for mounds of candy to be collected later on. Almost all the potions had been sold (mostly to superstitious gypsies), and over half the store was wiped of its Halloween decorations, parties totally stocked and ready for a night of fun; Bokuto wished he had some punch to throw back in the form of shots, because Suguru’s presence was making him increasingly nervous, biting away at his courage piece by piece. The owlish college student almost burst into tears when he gave candy to a little boy dressed as a black cat—Kuroo hadn’t stormed into _Ghoulish_ and demand he speak to Bokuto, so the witch figured his call couldn’t have been that important. He managed to remain his normal self, however, and when it was finally time to lock-up for the night, Koutarou even made conversation.

“Well, whatever you end up doing, be careful, Suguru.” The witch said honestly, watching as the other took the key out from the handle. “Make sure to keep a charm with you at all times!”

“Will do. You have a safe night, too—wouldn’t want anyone meeting the heavens because they ignored superstitions, hm?”

“Right.”

Daishou checked that the front shop door was locked once more, slipping the key into his pocket as he fully turned towards his employee; one of the sickest smiles Koutarou had ever seen creeped to those slimy lips, reminding him of the 28th when his boss had spotted him through the darkest of nights while walking with his step-brother. The memory still ached deep inside his chest, but the student pushed it away so he could focus on the intentions behind his boss’ words.

“Goodnight, Bokuto Koutarou~” He whispered mysteriously.

The witch could only watch in silence as Suguru turned and walked down the sidewalk, pushing through a group of children and disappearing into the darkening late afternoon. If Bokuto didn’t know any better, he would say his boss looked… _greener_ than usual. Emerald green was his theme, of course, due to his snake fetish, but today…it almost looked as if he was _glowing_ a dark shade of his favorite color. Koutarou didn’t know what to make of that and decided to hurry home before the evil eye caught up to him and doomed the entire night. Thankfully, nothing _too_ daunting happened on the way home, and Bokuto let out a relieved sigh when he entered apartment 4B.

“How was your day?” Akaashi asked immediately, popping up right beside Koutarou in the entryway. “Did Suguru say anything?”

“Well…I now know he’s more sadistic than I ever thought, I met a cute little witch and almost got jumped by some creepy kids who demanded candy from me.”

“You met another witch?” Keiji replied in surprise.

“You’re not even going to ask if I’m okay?!”

“Obviously you’re okay, Bokuto-san—you’re still alive, aren’t you?”

“They could have assaulted me!”

“ _Did_ they?”

“Well…no, but—”

“Come have some hot chocolate,” The ghost sighed, nudging his roommate to the kitchen. “It’s still hot, it’ll help you calm down.”

“I am calm,” Bokuto mumbled, sitting down at the table where a cup of hot chocolate was waiting for him. “Actually, I’m calmer than I’ve been in my entire life. Wait—you didn’t poison this, did you?”

“So paranoid…”

Koutarou drank the hot chocolate anyways, figuring if that was how he died, at least it was at the hands of his crush. Now that night officially fell over Tokyo, an eerie atmosphere found its way into the apartment, but the cute Halloween decorations and charms seemed to do their work well, protecting their owner from worry or doubt; Akaashi had done his best to suck the energy out of every snotty person’s apartment throughout the day in preparation for the meeting tonight, but he still had to wonder what exactly Suguru’s intentions were.

“How many magical creatures do you suppose found those hidden posters?” He asked curiously. “You said they were all located in places where only witches like yourself would be able to find them…what if a human happened to stumble upon one and set up a trap for everyone?”

“ _Now_ who’s worrying, ‘Kaashi?” Bokuto teased, nudging the ghost’s arm. “I doubt any of them would be brave enough to follow us in there…besides—Suguru will probably make sure anyone besides magic users gets lost in the forest. He’ll probably feast on their souls after the meeting.”

“Gross.”

“I’ve heard snakes can swallow their victims _whole_ —do you think that’s true?!”

“Let’s get back on subject, Bokuto.”

“But this _is_ on subject!” The witch claimed, almost launching the hot chocolate over his shoulder. “Suguru will use his snake-like abilities on us, so we need to be prepared!”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? If Suguru-san _does_ indeed have some magical ability, I doubt he would use it to turn into a serpent; it’s more fun to torture victims psychologically than to eat them in one bite.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Bokuto said thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes. “…Have _you_ ever swallowed someone whole, Akaashi?”

The ghost accidentally caused a splash of hot chocolate to burst out of the mug and land on Koutarou’s jeans, making the other screech and laugh.

“Mean, ‘Kaashi!”

“So,” Keiji began, changing the subject as Bokuto wiped the stain off his pants. “…Are you prepared for tonight? You memorized all those spells and everything?”

“Mhm—I guess you could say I’ve mastered all four elements again,” The witch nodded. “Maybe next Halloween we can actually sit down and enjoy Kuroo’s horror-themed baking; we didn’t get to do that this year.”

“We could still accomplish that when we return.”

“ _If_ we return…”

Naturally, Bokuto’s deepest thoughts had been getting to him over the past hour or so; he was starting to seriously consider the fact that he could very well die tonight at the hands of his evil boss. They could enter the cave and not come out. Well, Akaashi could—he was already ghost and therefore would not disappear unless Suguru hired a medium or priest to shoo him through the afterlife or something. But Bokuto, as a witch, still had human tendencies that made him vulnerable to regular forms of death, such as hitting his head against a rock, strangulation, heart attack, etc. etc. It was possible that even if he saved every other magical creature, he himself would cease to exist after this Halloween night; at first, Bokuto figured that wouldn’t be a loss to anyone, as his crush was already deceased, but after a second of thinking he remembered Kuroo, his best friend who was still very much alive. Despite the demonologist’s outgoing nature, he didn’t have any friends that were remotely close to taking Bokuto’s position as bestie #1, and therefore, would suffer if Koutarou were to die tonight. Strangely enough, this thought comforted the witch, as well as pushing his spirit further towards determination; he didn’t want Kuroo to spend his entire life in sorrow, wondering if he was wrong to step aside as his best friend asked him to, wondering if he should have turned Bokuto’s mom in when he had the chance as a child, never remembering what memories the witch had stolen from him with sorrow…the student didn’t want Tetsurou to live with that guilt.

“Will you promise me something, Akaashee?” Bokuto asked quietly, running a finger along the mug.

“Of course.”

“Promise me…if I don’t make it out alive tonight, for some reason…promise me you’ll watch over Kuroo. Can you do that?”

“If, for some reason, you don’t make it out alive tonight, I’ll watch over Kuroo for you.” Keiji nodded honestly.

“Thanks. You’re the best. And you make really yummy hot chocolate.”

The ghost smiled as Bokuto slurped at the hot beverage                 quietly, content and happy at the last moment of silence for the night, and possibly forever. Koutarou thought back to his first night in this new apartment, the pranks Akaashi played on him, his apologies afterwards, the nights they sat at the witch’s laptop and did his homework together, every occasion on which Bokuto would be caught staring at the ghost…he remembered Akaashi’s accident and death, his unfairly attractive parents, the memorial with all the flowers, the stories of Keiji searching for something beyond magic, the night Akaashi kissed him, the night he tucked him in, the nights they watched the Disney Halloween movie marathon, the nights they practiced magic together…it was strange how, looking back on the month, there had been some incredibly beautiful moments amidst the chaos. October had simultaneously been the worst and best month of the year for Bokuto—tonight would determine which feeling weighed out the other. Hopefully it would turn out to be the best. Koutarou really hoped it would turn out to be the best. If he could manage to get a boyfriend, save the lives of hundreds, defeat his evil boss and win Kuroo back, there was no stopping him from having a nice life ahead of him.

“Bokuto-san.”

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“For once…the future.” He smiled faintly. Akaashi watched as his roommate set the mug down and began speaking firmly. “Listen—I don’t know what’s gunna happen tonight, Akaashi—but I’m almost certain about a few things: firstly, we’re going to make it out of that cave alive. Well, I’ll stay alive, you just stay…ghostly. Secondly, we’re going to turn Kuroo back over to the light side, whatever it takes. Thirdly…Suguru is _not_ what we think he is. Are you sure you wanna get mixed up in this shit, after all you’ve been through?”

“Yes.”

“I’m just saying—you may not be able to find inner-peace after the disgusting snake-like things we’ll witness tonight. Those images could haunt you forever and ever.”

“I think,” Keiji laughed lightly. “That _I_ should be the one asking _you_ these questions. You’re not like me, Bokuto-san—you’re still alive. You’re _young_. You’re strong and spirited. Are you certain you want to be the one to risk your life, to stand-up to Suguru?”

If you had asked the spikey-haired boy that question as a child, he probably would have peed his pants and run off into the woods somewhere; but the longer Koutarou thought it over now, the more certain he became. All his life he had been the victim, the fearful one who never wanted to take a chance, knowing that chance would only end in disaster. He never stood up to his mother, or _anyone_ , really, until Akaashi made him see the true power in his magical abilities, triggering another power Bokuto didn’t know existed. Kuroo had been trying this method throughout the years, but because he was unaware of his best friend’s witch status, he couldn’t give Koutarou the final push into confidence; in the end, it didn’t matter who pushed this feeling of certainty onto the college student, because he was an entirely new person by the end of October, and although his answer was shaky, his usually apprehensive expression was sure.

“Yes. I’m certain, Akaashi.”

“Alright,” The spirit nodded. “Then I’ll be with you every step of the way, if you’ll allow me.”

Bokuto leaned over quickly, almost launching himself off the stool as he snuck a chocolately kiss onto Keiji’s lips, leaving a hint of chocolate stain behind, which was both disgusting and slightly romantic.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

The witch was blushing severely at his action and words, but before Akaashi could react to the kiss, he found himself laughing breathlessly when Koutarou tried adjusting his position on the stool and ended-up slipping to the floor instead.

“Suguru’s certainly in for a big surprise.”

~~~-~~~

After a few hours of anticipation and nervousness, 9:30 came around, and Bokuto attached the ghost to his own aura before they set off into the Tokyo forest to locate the cave in which Suguru Daishou was using as a meeting location. Koutarou hadn’t stepped foot in a forest since “the incident” back when he erased Kuroo’s memory—a wave of nausea rushed over him the second they stepped over the invisible threshold, unwanted memories pushing their way into his brain as Akaashi looked over worriedly.

“Bokuto-san? Are you okay?”

“F…Fine. Just…give me a minute…”

Unconsciously, Bokuto reached out for anything to hold and happened to snatch onto Keiji’s cold palm, squeezing it tightly as the ghost paused their steps, allowing the witch a moment to regain his strength. Akaashi wasn’t opposed to holding hands, but he accidentally caught sight of Koutarou’s sly little smirk and ripped his hand away with irritation. How could Bokuto be tricking him into intimacy at a time like this?!

“This is no time for romance, Bokuto-san.” The ghost huffed.

“But what if we die and never get this opportunity again?! I want to remember our last moments, Akaashee!”

“Fine,” The darker haired boy sighed, roughly grabbing the other’s larger hand. “Are you happy, now?”

“Mhm!” Koutarou grinned, lacing his hands through Keiji’s thing fingers. “Just let me turn on my glow stick quickly.”

The ghost used his last remaining patience and watched as Bokuto built an elaborate combination of glow sticks in the shape of…well, whatever it was, cracking and twisting until all the colors were glowing brightly. The witch’s dorky smile at the sight eased Akaashi’s annoyance, turning it into affection as if by magic while they began strolling through the forest hand in hand. They walked in troubling silence through the trees for a good twenty-minutes, trying to hide their flinches of fear whenever a strange noise echoed to their ears.

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

“Yeah—the cave is right up ahead, just past this row of trees.”

While Akaashi wasn’t known for professing his emotions in an obvious sort of style, he couldn’t suppress a shiver of uneasiness that rolled through his form upon glancing ahead at an eerie looking bundle of trees; due to the cold October weather, every branch was stripped of its protective bark layer as well as its coat of colorful leaves, leaving behind its current picture of danger. Keiji felt as if he were walking towards the gates of hell, sky darkening above them and atmosphere growing sharp—Bokuto must have understood his sudden fear, as he gave the ghost’s hand a strong squeeze before they entered the shadow-filled forest area together, glow sticks lighting their way.

“This is darker than I imagined,” Koutarou chuckled weakly. “But we’re almost there. You still okay, ‘Kaashi?”

Keiji could only nod in agreement, allowing the thicker boy to lead the way, twisting through the maze of trees before they suddenly walked right up on the infamous cave; the witch almost ran right into the stone with how abruptly it seemed to appear, and they backed up a few steps in order to take-in the appearance of Suguru’s chosen location.

“Well…this is it,” The student announced in a hushed tone. “Once we get inside, all hell is gunna break loose.”

“Mhm…”

“I, um…I’m sorry I tricked you back there.” Bokuto confessed as he turned to Akaashi. “I just…I know we’re strong enough to beat Suguru and everything, but I just wanted to know what it felt like in case…just _in case_.”

Akaashi couldn’t really be mad at his roommate for such an innocent scheme, especially when his enjoyment matched the witch’s, though he wouldn’t admit to so until _after_ they survived this night. He only sighed and shrugged at Bokuto, who smiled cheekily before turning back towards the cave, releasing Keiji’s hand.

 

“Let’s go wish Suguru a Happy Halloween, shall we?”

 

Bokuto was the first to enter through the small opening, squeezing his bulky shoulders through and emerging into a taller hallway that had a distant light shining near the end; Akaashi simply walked through the stone like some ghost prodigy, but Koutarou saved his pouting for later, and instead held his glow sticks out in front of them so they could find their way through the tunnel. No words could describe how nervous the witch was at the idea of meeting other witches—he had never met one in his entire life, and if they were anything like him, they would be in for a rough night.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi addressed suddenly, grabbing onto Koutarou’s forearm. “I’m going to be invisible for a while, so I don’t scare anyone, but I’ll be right beside you the entire time, okay?”

“Okay—stay close, alright? When Suguru swallows me I want you to remember and feel terrible about it for years to come.”

Keiji rolled his eyes and released his grip on Bokuto, who released a deep sigh while turning back towards the opening; he could still feel Akaashi’s presence in heavy amounts, and that was enough for him to keep going.

“Keep going,” The ghost’s voice encouraged to his left. “I’ll be right here.”

Koutarou nodded firmly, and boldly walked towards the exit at the end of the tunnel, emerging into a large stone room in the midst of the cave.

The set-up would have been grand, had not the atmosphere been tainted by an uncertain emotion, curtesy of at least thirty witches standing around in groups; two large rock formations similar to the one in _The Lion King_ stood out on each side of the cave, pointing towards each other and sending shadows out across half the room’s dirt flooring. Candles were everywhere, every single wick lit and shining brightly, much to Bokuto’s sweet relief—he was _astounded_ to see the other magical creatures, including dozens of children and their parents, a werewolf or two, little Yachi and even another fiery-haired boy Koutarou recognized from the shop. This particular child was the first to notice Bokuto standing at the entrance, but he seemed more interested in something to the college student’s left side, where he pointed and gasped dramatically.

“You have a ghost boyfriend, too?!” The boy shouted.

Several of the witches looked over at Bokuto, cocking their heads with curiosity as Akaashi coughed beside him, trying to hide his seemingly invisible form behind his “boyfriend.”

“Um…hi, everyone.” Koutarou greeted, waving. He got a few greetings in return, but mostly stares as he stood there, leaning against a rock awkwardly.

“Hi, Bokuto-san!” Yachi squeaked back, hurrying away from her mother to say hello. “You made it!”

“You know this guy, Yachi-chan?” The ginger-haired boy asked.

“Mhm! He’s a witch, just like us, Hinata!”

“Ooo!!! Ask him if his boyfriend is a ghost or a demon!”

“He has a boyfriend?” Yachi asked in confusion, glancing around.

“Yeah, he’s standing right behind him!” The boy nodded. “Can’t you see him?”

“Welcome, fellow brother.” An older woman said, breaking their little party apart. “Have you come for meeting?”

“Uhh…sort of. Are you guys all…witches and other magical beings?” Bokuto asked.

“Sure am!” The boy named Hinata nodded proudly. “I wanna be the very best at magic!”

“That’s great, kid,” A random guy interrupted to their right. “But what I really want to know is who the hell called this meeting in the first place. Was it you, crazy-owl haired dude?”

“It must have been a witch, like us,” Another person commented.

“I heard it was someone who wants to set-up a protection program.”

“I hope it wasn’t the government or something…”

“I know who called the meeting!” Bokuto announced loudly.

Akaashi was eyeing over the crowd of witches carefully, searching for Suguru’s face amongst their gazes; when he didn’t locate that snakeish expression, he began looking for Kuroo instead.

“Who was it?” Another asked as everyone turned their attention to Koutarou. “Was it another witch?”

“Everyone _listen_ to me—the person who called this meeting is not one of us.” Bokuto explained severely. “He’s not here to help anyone. He’s my boss, and I have reason to believe he tricked us into coming h—”

_Crash!_

The sound of glass shattering cut Koutarou’s warning off, and everyone quickly turned their attention to the dark purple cloud forming from a broken potion bottle in the middle of the cave; someone had dropped it from above, and the smoke advanced quickly as Bokuto’s eyes widened. Two witches who had been standing the closest to the potion went to back away, only for their figures to drop on the ground immediately after they accidentally inhaled the substance; someone screamed as the now temporarily paralyzed bodies fell weakly, frozen and exposed to even more danger than before. Chaos erupted, mothers grabbing onto their children protectively, and people began shouting with terror as Bokuto hurried through the crowd, facing the dark purple cloud head-on with courage he didn’t know he had.

“Quae cum nubibus!” _Contain the clouds_.

The smoke stopped its course abruptly, pausing for a moment as Koutarou’s hand trembled out in front of him, manipulating the substance backwards; a few more victims fell, their bodies hurriedly dragged to safety by others who were holding their breath. Bokuto’s spell was working, but the strength of the evil potion was not to be underestimated, and he could slowly feel its power pushing against the barriers he created.

“Everyone get out of here!” The divination student commanded. “Hurr—”

_Boom._

_Boom._

Large rocks fell in front of the entrance to the cave, cutting off any hope of escape; a few witches immediately went over to try and lift the rocks with a levitation spell, but the stones were heavy, as if made of lead or weighed down by evil. Bokuto hissed a curse under his breath and stepped closer to the hovering potion, focusing all his energy on keeping it contained as to not injure any more magical creatures—d

“Quae cum nubibus!”

Koutarou jerked his head to the right, seeing Yachi and her mother both holding their right hand out towards the purple cloud, fingers trembling with the force they had to use in aiding their friend. Two more witches drew up to Bokuto’s left side, and with their combined powers, they managed to shrink the potion down to one small cloud that continued in its attempts to break free. Akaashi’s voice suddenly alerted Bokuto to their current situation.

“Suguru’s there, up on the rock!” The ghost shouted somewhere behind him.

Sure enough, when the owlish man glanced upwards, he saw the familiar narrow figure of his boss standing on the right rock formation above them. His face was hidden in the shadows, but Koutarou knew it was him.

“Keep it contained!” The witch ordered Yachi, who nodded confidently.

“I’ll meet you up there, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto released his hold on the potion, ensuring the others had a good grip on it before he transported himself up to the rock in a flash, standing at the end furthest from Suguru; everything seemed so loud up here, like the candles were flickering to the beat of a drum in preparation for death. All the anger Koutarou had been saving up over the years burst out of him when he saw Daishou standing calmly at the edge of the rock, dressed in a nice, fancy dark emerald suit, that same glow of green surrounding his lithe body while he watched what was happening below.

“ _Suguru_!” Koutarou nearly screamed. “Stop this _right now_!!!”

“Fancy seeing you here, Koutarou.”

Suguru turned slowly, lips already caught in a sick smile that revealed sharper teeth than Bokuto remembered hanging over his boss’ moist lips like a vampire’s; the suit was clean and pressed nicely, as if the fabric was made in a different world, fitting Daishou’s thin figure attractively. Not that Koutarou thought he looked hot or anything…Akaashi would look good in a suit, though.

“I was under the impression that you had plans with Kuroo tonight—you didn’t lie to your boss, now did you?”

Bokuto quickly glanced down to his left as he boldly walked across the rock formation, seeing that the witches were still holding their own against the poison and attempting to move the giant rocks blocking the exit. He stopped after getting five feet away from Suguru, not daring to go any further when he still didn’t know what disgusting powers Daishou possessed at the moment; could he transform to a snake? Did he have pet snakes that fed on humans? Was he secretly Medusa? Most importantly, why was he doing all this? To get back at his father for the will incident? Bokuto didn’t know, so he tried asking, hoping to receive a long monologue that filled in the blanks.

“ _Why_?” The witch begged to know, eyes wide as he stared at Suguru. “ _Why_ are you doing this? What’s the point of hurting all these innocent people, Daishou?”

A long second of loud silence followed. Then, Bokuto could only watch as Kuroo’s step brother’s eyes turned completely green, glowing brightly as the candle lights dimmed, darkening the entire cave. Despite their new hue, they burned and flickered with evil energy, shaking Koutarou to his very core much like his mother used to whenever she became upset; when Daishou opened his mouth, the sick smile was gone, and a _deeper_ , much more _sinister_ voice exited his mouth with a low hiss.

 

“ _Because Suguru asked me to_.”

 

The shop owner’s neck suddenly cracked to the right, and as he straightened back up, everything about his appearance changed drastically—those long, smooth fingers grew a few more inches, the nails turning into sharp, black claws that could cut through the thickest of metals. Daishou’s normally narrow jaw shrunk even further while the pure white fangs glowed brighter, hanging over suddenly pale and sickly-looking lips; his entire skin tone went from peachy to a deathly grey shade, accented by scars and other unholy marks, veins now prominent on every exposed body part that Bokuto could see. The green glow hovering around Suguru’s body sucked the life out of each candle on their side of the cave so he was the only source of light for the terrified witch backing away from him, the smell of rotting animal flesh overwhelming his nostrils as he finally understood what he was looking at: Suguru wasn’t the one standing in front of him. Suguru probably hadn’t been there for quite some time, now, but Koutarou never realized it. Behind his roommate, Akaashi was putting the puzzle pieces together more fully, remembering when Daishou saw him at the store, when he noticed another presence lurking through _Ghoulish_ …he recalled when Bokuto told him about how Suguru saw him on the street through the darkness, how he became itchy and irritated whenever Kuroo arrived, the current smell of something rotting that overwhelmed his senses…

“You—You’re not—” Bokuto stuttered, unable to get the words out clearly. “You’re not…Suguru.”

Without another word, Daishou vanished, reappearing on the other rock mound right across from Koutarou. At the same time, the protective circle around the poison below broke, throwing Yachi and the other witches backwards as the purple cloud was released once more, advancing towards every living being in sight.

“Save some for your neighbor, witches,” Suguru teased. “We’re still waiting for one more honored guest!”

“Bokuto, he’s—”

Akaashi didn’t get the sentence out, startled by the sudden crack of his crush’s knuckles, resulting in all the candles behind them being re-lit, their flames even brighter than before. As the witches below struggled to stop the cloud of smoke, Koutarou took a step forward and silently uttered the transporting spell; knowing how this spell worked, Keiji understood that Bokuto would still accidently come into contact with Daishou’s poisonous potion and quickly engulfed the boy’s invisible form as it went to move, protecting him from inhaling the substance. The second Koutarou landed on Suguru’s rock formation, Akaashi released his hold, allowing the student to perform his next magic trick. While the witches managed to at least keep the poison away from their group, Bokuto began pulling a boulder down from above.

“Phase through the walls and get out of here!” He shouted to his friends.

“We’re not leaving you, Bokuto-san!” The boy named Hinata yelled.

“ _Cadere_!” _Fall_.

The largest boulder from above seemed to effortlessly pull away from its connection to the roof of the cave and began to descend downwards, aiming for where Suguru was standing on the edge of the jutted-out rock.

“Get out of the way!!!” Akaashi shouted at the witches, who scattered to the sides while also running away from the purple cloud.

Bokuto backed towards the cave wall for stability as the boulder crashed down against the end of the rock—it should have killed Suguru, if he were human or a witch, but instead Daishou simply levitated backwards, hovering above the scene as the boulder shattered half of where he just stood, falling to the ground loudly as witches scattered. The only good thing that came of the boulder was that it fell directly on the cloud, holding the largest portion on the ground for a long moment, allowing Bokuto’s friends to get further away. Some had listened to his command and phased through the rocks as an escape, but most of them stayed put, shouting spells and helping those who had succumb to the poison. Koutarou watched anxiously as Suguru smiled darkly in his direction, holding his palm out and silently lifting some of the potion upwards so it rested in a ball shape in his hand.

“Hahaha…” Daishou laughed lowly, voice mocking. “You are a _petty_ little witch, Bokuto…you think because you’ve been studying religiously for the past week you will suddenly be a master of all trades. Well I’m sorry to crush your dreams, but it’ll take a lot more than a few charms to keep _my_ magic contained.”

Suguru jerked his hand forward, throwing the ball of poison straight at Bokuto—the witch held his own arm out as protection, but the spell wasn’t coming, name blank inside his mind as his eyes widened, watching as the purple mass rushed towards him with evil intentions. _What’s the spell?_ He thought wildly, half a second remaining before he was paralyzed and swallowed whole by Daishou. _What’s the damn spell?!_

A rush of wind hurried past Bokuto, stopping a foot in front of him as the poison collided with it violently, bursting into nothingness as the invisible guardian prevented it from going forward. _Akaashi_.

“Thanks, Keiji!” Koutarou sighed heavily. “Ventilabus retro!”

Before the spell made it halfway to Suguru (still hovering above air), something caused it to rebound backwards; the ghost’s figure had disappeared again, unable to prevent the pushing spell from connecting with its owner, harshly striking his chest and pushing him back against the cave wall. Koutarou’s body crashed against the rocks, bruises immediately forming to the skin on his shoulders and back while his vision became fuzzy for a moment, a moment long enough where Suguru activated another strike. Yachi watched below with horror, hands falling away from the witches’ final strike against the poison, pushing what remained of it to the furthest wall—she tried calling out to Bokuto, but her voice failed her miserably.

When Bokuto’s eyes finally cleared, he looked up to see the daunting sight of Daishou standing above him, green glow tainting his vision once more; within a flash, Suguru reached down with his long fingers, smiling sickly as his nails raked against both the witch’s top and bottom lip, slashing their skin so severely it would badly affect his speech ability. There must have been some other form of poison within the nails that seeped into the wounds immediately, causing Koutarou to cry out in pain as blood spewed out, falling down his chin and blocking some parts of his throat. The broken skin burned awfully, forcing tears to Bokuto’s already watering eyes while he struggled to mask his pain, though Suguru could feel it already.

“They say a witch’s greatest power is their lips,” Daishou hummed thoughtfully, eyes narrowing as he noticed that ghost rushing to Koutarou’s side again. “I think otherw—”

_Pow!_

Suguru’s body shot backwards, skipping across what remained of the rock formation, curtesy of an agonized young witch who didn’t need words to perform magic. Bokuto’s bloody hand dropped back down, joining his other as he tried to stop the bleeding of his lips and mouth, barely able to sense Akaashi’s presence as the spirit dropped down beside him, becoming a full body apparition once more.

“Bokuto-san!” Keiji addressed stressfully, grabbing onto Bokuto’s trembling shoulders. “You have to get up! I know it hurts, but you have to get up!”

Blood continued to pour from the two deep slice marks on Koutarou’s lips as he whimpered in pain, struggling to even continue kneeling as Akaashi lightly pushed him against the cave wall in an attempt to straighten his vulnerable stance. Suguru was already recovering from the sudden attack, using his levitational abilities to stand once more.

“Bokuto, _please_ get up! Daishou’s coming, you have to get up!”

“Leave us, lowly ghost,” Suguru huffed, offended by Akaashi’s presence. “Walk towards the light before I take you back to hell with me.”

“Bokuto-san!”

Keiji roughly grabbed his roommate by the collar and jerked him upwards—before Bokuto could cry out in pain, the spirit ripped those large hands away where they covered his mouth and pressed his lips against the witch’s bloody and mutilated ones. He pushed all his remaining energy forward, forcing it to enter Koutarou’s very soul and fill him with the desire and power to carry on; Akaashi could feel Daishou coming closer, and so hurried the process along, losing his physical form as his energy was all but erased, merging with Bokuto’s and healing those terrible slashes on the dorky divination student’s warm lips. When the process was complete, Keiji could only gasp as he felt himself quickly vanishing into nothingness, soul remaining as it had for the past twenty-two years, but appearing only in a faint white mass.

“Akaashi!!!”

 _As usual…kissing Bokuto is energy well spent_.

Pain turned into strength as Bokuto’s body jolted upright with the sudden addition of another’s aura, sending sparks through his veins and powerful determination through his chest; his golden eyes frantically searched for his ghostly friend, but Suguru quickly captured his attention once more, only a few feet away, now, ready for another strike.

“Silly spirits,” Those snakeish lips spat. “Always interfering with my plans…”

“Rigescunt indutae!” Koutarou shouted, trying to freeze Suguru in place. It worked to an extent, stopping the creature in his tracks, but whoever was controlling Daishou didn’t need movement in order to injure.

“This is exactly what he wanted,” Suguru said thoughtfully, raising his right arm and pointing it at Bokuto. “As the other witches struggle for life below, the hidden being who lurked around the shop will pay the highest price of all! Now if only the man of honor would—”

_Splash!_

A large gush of water came cascading down from above somewhere, crashing onto Suguru’s body heavily—before Bokuto could notice the steam suddenly coming off Daishou’s grey skin, his boss fell to his knees and released an ear-aching, inhuman _screeching_ noise, grasping at his clothing as the water soaked him to the bone. His wails turned to screams of agony similar to Koutarou’s from minutes earlier, allowing the witch a moment for peering up above, where a very familiar figure holding a bucket was kneeling on the edge of a crevasse…

 

“ _KUROO_!!!!!!!”

 

Bokuto could not believe what he was seeing. Kuroo was here! Kuroo was helping him!!! Kuroo was—…suddenly right next to him holding the empty bucket?

“Hey, Bo.” Tetsurou greeted with a sly smile. “How are things going?”

“You—But—You’re—You—You—”

“A little confusing, I know. But let’s skip the details for now, mk?” Kuroo suggested, turning to face Suguru, who was still screaming from the liquid burning his clothing and irritating his skin. “Since the beginning of October, I’ve been onto my previous step-brother Suguru, who is possessed by a demon who is now controlling his body and making him do all these horrible things.”

“ _WHAT?!_ ”

“Be shocked later, we ha—”

_POWWW!_

Witches shouted below as the contained purple poison suddenly erupted again, striking the group of witches who had previously been trapping it and immediately sending them crashing to the ground, paralyzed. Yachi and Hinata were a bit further away, but there was nowhere to run unless they phased through the walls, which Bokuto doubted they knew how to do.

“Hinata, Yachi!” He shouted in alarm. “Someone get them out of here!”

There were only a few older witches left, the rest dropping like flies as their spells failed to work on the dark cloud rushing towards them; Hinata and Yachi were snatched by one of their friends, but it was clear they would be dead meat once the cloud reached them in a minute’s time. Kuroo quickly grabbed Bokuto and turned him so they were intensely facing each other, cat eyes glimmering with intent.

“Bokuto,” He said seriously. “I need you to stop the cloud while I stop Suguru—you need to do it quickly, understand?!”

“Yes!”

“Hurry! That holy water won’t keep him weak for long!”

“O-Okay, I’ll try!”

Kuroo stopped Bokuto before he could turn back around, eyes softening with sincerity for a moment as he let his grip fall from the witch’s shoulders to his wrists.

“Bo,” The demonologist huffed. His grip tightened. “…I can’t do this without you.”

Every happy moment Koutarou shared with Tetsurou throughout their childhood flashed through his mind, from the forest adventures to the family dinners, from their birthday parties to the holiday celebrations in town. Bokuto had never really thought about how much he was needed by his friend—he only thought about how much _he_ needed Kuroo. Things had definitely changed over their years together…and maybe their friendship would never be the same after this Halloween night, but for the first time, Bokuto was determined to not let Tetsurou down. Not when they needed each other the most.

“Thanks, Kuroo.”

The best friends shared a quick smile before Kuroo released him. Bokuto turned to take in the current situation below, seeing that the purple potion mass was only feet away from Yachi and her few remaining friends, all the others frozen on the ground—Hinata was shouting some protective spell, but it wasn’t working, and their faith was fading quickly. Koutarou used his social anxiety skills to analyze the situation, only coming up with a single spell that could save the lives of Yachi and Hinata. He almost wanted to laugh at how simple the spell was, but hurriedly focused the energy Akaashi provided him with onto the purple mass floating towards his friends, lowly, but _powerfully_ whispering the spell he used to clean grape juice out of the carpet whenever he spilled.

 

“ _Elevatio manuum substantia_.”

 _Lifting substance_.

 

Yachi gasped when the cloud froze a foot away from she and Hinata. Time itself seemed to stand still, hurrying along not a second later as Bokuto manipulated the substance backwards; hidden in the midst of the chaos, the previously shattered glass bottle fixed itself, reforming into a glass shape as a few small puffs of poison found their way back inside its trap. The polluted air around Hinata and Yachi suddenly felt cleaner, allowing them a gasping breath while Bokuto’s golden eyes were blazing above, continuing his final strike.

“ _Elevatio manuum substantia!_ ”

The student powerfully pointed his commanding hand at the paralyzed witches scattered across the cave floor—he lifted and soaked the poisonous cloud from each of their bodies, giving breath and movement to each of his friends once again. Yachi shouted in triumph when her mother sat up with a large breath, returning to reality in a dizzying motion; the other witches, too, were released of their magical hold and could only find it in them to remain lying on the dirt as they watched multiple purple clouds hover above the scene. Dozens of purple smoke bundles remained sitting in mid-air for a few seconds as Bokuto collected the rest, lifting their serious hold on every witch who had been affected so far—Yachi trembled in fear, not knowing what would come next after the small clouds were all combined to form one giant one like before.

Meanwhile, on the broken edge of rock, Kuroo was dumping out all the contents inside his bookbag, hurriedly searching through them to locate the little black book. His eyes lit-up upon finding it, ready to live the dream every demonologist wanted to experience.

“Ah ha—”

_Slice!_

Tetsurou’s shout of pain alarmed Bokuto a few feet away, but he didn’t take his eyes off the large cloud he was currently manipulating. Suguru had stood up once more, his nails raking right through Kuroo’s jacket sleeve, leaving behind three gaping scratches that burned beyond reason, curtesy of his demonic abilities. The book barely dangling in Kuroo’s right hand went flying at the contact, striking the back stone wall and just _barely_ sticking the landing on the edge of the cliff; the demonologist wasn’t panicking, so to speak, but he knew Suguru would not be freed without the power of that book.

“I advised Daishou to get rid of you at the _beginning_ of October,” The demon possessing his step-brother’s body hissed, advancing towards Kuroo as the latter began crawling over to the back ledge. “As he will see, you demonologists are more trouble than you’re worth!”

Bokuto smirked to himself when he managed to combine all the poisonous clouds into one—he got a firm grip on the substance before lifting both his hands up and violently motioning them downwards. All the witches were lightly blown back as the cloud followed suit, blowing out hundreds of candles across from Koutarou as the poison was forced back into the repaired glass container, a horrible noise of resentment squealing out when a majority of the cloud found its way into the potion bottle. With a _swoosh!_ the purple substance was trapped once more, cap tightly closing the only exit point.

“Bokuto-san, you _did_ it!” Yachi cheered, then passed-out cold against Hinata’s shoulder.

“We’re still in danger!” Koutarou huffed, hands shaking with exertion. “Get out of here while you sti—”

“This may be over doing what Daishou-chan asked me to do, but I just can’t resist!!!”

Bokuto jerked his head to the right, eyes widening as he saw Kuroo being kicked against the stone wall, left hand desperately reaching for a small black book to his left; Suguru or whatever the hell demon was possessing him seemed dead set on not allowing that to happen. The smoke still drifted off the damaged green suit he wore, prompting Koutarou to glance behind the snake where the bucket of holy water Kuroo threw down laid on the end half of the ridge. Most of it had been used on Suguru, but there was still a good amount left—the sight of his best friend bleeding and being cornered by a demon was enough to push Bokuto into protection mode.

“By the power of God, I demand you stay away!” Kuroo shouted, slipping out the cross necklace from underneath his shirt. “You are powerless against him, against his people!”

“Shut up, _fool_!” Daishou spit at him, foam oozing from the corners of his mouth. Those green eyes were glowing brighter than ever, sucking the life out of every candle within five-feet of their position. “You have already lost!!!”

“ _ALLIGES DUPLICIA!!!_ ”

A long string of holy water shot towards Suguru, trapping his arms tightly against his sides as the liquid burned and irritated his skin once more, that haunting screech echoing loudly through the cave, now vacated with the exception of these three fighters. Daishou fell to his knees weakly, head thrown back in anger and agony as Bokuto kept the holy water binds around him, tightening their hold as much as he could; Kuroo finally managed to snatch his black book and hurriedly stood, advancing towards the demon while flipping through the aged yellow pages of the exorcism book. He leaned down and grabbed a small brown cross as well, and the minute he glared at Suguru and pressed it upon his forehead, every single candle in the cave went out.

“I call out every impure spirit within this host!” Kuroo called out over the demon’s high-pitched screams. Even though the cave was totally dark, Bokuto could see the cross burning a mark on Daishou’s skin. “Every soldier of the infernal adversary will now be exorcised from the body of Suguru Daishou, in the name of the Father, of the Son, and the Holy Ghost—draw out this dragon, this old serpent, the devil named Satan. Bind him and cast him into the bottomless pit!”

Suguru’s body had now turned a sickly green, eyes now bloodshot and oozing real blood from the corners; Koutarou had half a mind to stop Kuroo, but he knew this was part of the process. Kuroo always told him the details of an exorcism when he had been drinking spiked pumpkin spice lattes.

“Drive away the smoke, good Lord, as wax melts before the fire, so the wicked perish at the presence of God!”

The demon gave a powerful lurch forward, straining the holy water binds, but Bokuto was not going to allow him an escape route, and tightened his grip, all but ignoring the pitch darkness of the setting. Smoke began bursting from where the cross touched Suguru’s skin, and more screams of agony erupted from his disgusting mouth, a snake tongue jerking and twitching around outside his lips. Kuroo now reached down where the contents of his bag were and grabbed a rosary, throwing it around Daishou’s neck while continuing to preach.

“We drive you from the body of Suguru, whoever you may be, all the unclean spirits, all Satantic powers, all infernal invaders, all wicked legions that have seduced his soul for evil purposes. Most cunning serpent—you shall no more dare to deceive the human race, persecute the innocent, torment their souls; be gone!”

“Kuroo-chan!” The real voice of Daishou suddenly sobbed, alarming Bokuto. “Kuroo-chan, please stop!”

“The power of Christ compels you!!!” Tetsurou shouted, brushing aside the attempt at sympathy. “Be gone from this body at once!”

“ _Never_!!!” The demon voice laughed, making Daishou’s eyes shed tears as Kuroo momentarily pulled the cross off his forehead. Koutarou was struggling to keep the holy water bounds tight, strength leaving his body as his best friend fought against the demonic entity for the soul of his annoying step-brother.

“By the power of the Holy Ghost, I demand you exit this body at _once_!”

Kuroo splashed another veil of holy water over Suguru’s face, and the worst scream of all exited his lips, echoing through the cave and irritating Bokuto’s senses. Daishou’s skin had become pale again, and the green in those slitted eyes all but disappeared—his mouth remained opened, however, and his expression, more like the snobbish boss Koutarou knew, turned shocked. His entire body was shaking from head to toe, clean water dripping down the veins on his neck as the cave began rattling around them. Kuroo’s expression was fierce through the darkness, and Bokuto jolted from the amount of power coursing through the three of them as the demonologist slapped the brown cross back onto Suguru’s head, pressing against the holy water and shouting at the top of his lungs:

“By the power of God, this demon is hereby condemned back to _hell_!!!”

“ _AaaaaAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!_ ”

“BE _GONE_ , EVIL SPIRIT!!!!!!”

Every single candle magically re-lit themselves as a wave of light rushed over the cave, illuminating the sight of Daishou convulsing on his knees, human body suffering with the stress of the demon being ripped from his soul. His watering eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his skin ceased burning when whatever demonic entity possessing him finally exited its host, a dark mass leaving Suguru in a huff, shrinking into the stone below them and disappearing into nothingness. Bokuto dropped the holy water binds, stumbling backwards from fatigue as he and Kuroo both stared at Daishou with wide eyes, the latter’s physical form still trembling with exertion; his nails returned to normal, as did his tired eyes and thin lips, bloody from the stress of the demon leaving him. A long hovering silence worried Bokuto, but a second later, Daishou fell forward onto the ridge, passed-out cold, human body limp and powerless.

The demon was gone.

Kuroo collapsed against the cave wall and caught his breath, grinning as he looked below where the demon had scampered off with its tail between its legs.

 

“Happy Halloween, you demonic prick.”

~~~-~~~

It was the morning of November 1st when Kuroo and Bokuto finally managed to get Suguru out of the cave safely, propping his sleeping body up against the rock formation so Bokuto could get a break from all the levitation magic he was using. They huffed and puffed for a few minutes, too tired to form sentences and questions about what the hell just happened; the witch could feel a happy presence near them, and a lazy smile came to his lips as he addressed Keiji.

“Thanks, Akaashi,” He whispered. “Thanks a ton.”

“Okay,” Kuroo sighed, standing straight and tugging his best friend along with him. “Who the hell are you talking to, and who the hell have you been talking to for the past month?”

“This is my ghost roommate and crush, Akaashi.” Bokuto said simply, motioning to nothing beside him. Akaashi was still too weak to conjure up a physical form, yet. “Now tell me—tell me…what the _hell_ , Kuroo?!”

“Where do I start?” The demonologist _laughed_. He had the audacity to _laugh_ at the situation! “Well…let me show you something, first.”

“Show me what?”

Kuroo smirked and exhaled a deep breath before putting his hands by his sides and mumbling something familiar under his breath.

“ _Veni_.”

Bokuto blinked several times as the bookbag beside Suguru suddenly lifted itself off the ground and found its way to Kuroo’s hand, sliding the strap over his arm until it rested comfortably on his shoulder. Koutarou jumped in shock a second too late, eyes widening as he shakily pointed at his best friend with disbelief.

“Wha—What—Wha—How—W-What?” The divination student shouted. “ _What_?! Are you _kidding_ me right now?! _What_?!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a witch, Bo?” Kuroo had the nerve to question.

“ _WHAT?!_ Why the hell didn’t _you_ tell _me_ you were a witch?!”

“I thought you didn’t know!”

“I thought _you_ didn’t know!”

The black-haired man sighed deeply, trying to find the correct words to explain everything to his immature friend. Was it possible to tell the story without being interrupted with a load of questions?

“Okay…do you remember that day you called me and told me to come to the forest, Bo?” Kuroo asked slowly. “And you…said you were sorry for something that you were about to try and do to me?”

“…What do you mean, _tried_?” Bokuto replied, cocking his head to the side. “What I did _worked_ , didn’t it?”

“Well, it _would_ have worked,” The demonologist shrugged innocently. “If I was human.”

Koutarou was completely confused now as he stared at his best friend blankly, not putting the pieces together.

“To be fair, your spell did work to some extent—until I turned eight, I had no memory of you using magic.” Tetsurou went on. “But…when I turned eight…I guess you could say my magic blood finally caught up to me.”

“You’re really a _witch_?” Bokuto confirmed in awe. “You’re a witch, just like me?”

“Sure am! When I turned eight, all those memories of you doing magic came back to me, including a confusing one that resulted in me not knowing if _I_ was the one who altered your memory or if _you_ were the one who tried altering _mine_. That day is blurry in my mind, so over the years I never told you in case it had all been a dream or something.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” The thicker boy shook his head with wonder. Magic really did have a mind of its own. “…I’ve been a witch since I was born, and…and my mom tried to make me erase your memory when she found out you knew.”

“Ahh…that makes a lot more sense.” Kuroo nodded in realization. “So you’re telling me all this time we could have been practicing magic together, and instead we were keeping a secret that wasn’t really a secret at all?”

“Yup!”

The owlish man threw his arms around Tetsurou, pulling him close and tight out of an overwhelming joy he couldn’t describe with words. Kuroo laughed and hugged him back, relieved and happy to have his best friend back. There would definitely be no more secrets between them after today.

“This is almost too good to be true!” Bokuto cackled as they pulled away. “Tell me more, tell me more! How did you know where we were tonight? How did you know Suguru was possessed?!”

“That’s a longer story, but…to make it short, I had my suspicions triggered at the beginning of October, when Daisuke gave us copies of his will.” Kuroo explained while glancing over at Suguru, who still lay unconscious.

“Ohhhhh yeah…”

 _The one where Daisuke seemed to give more to his step-son than his actual son_.

“How have you read it?”

“I may have snuck a peek.” Akaashi’s faint voice mumbled to their right. Bokuto giggled as Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

“Anyway…Suguru was _so_ pissed he stormed out of the room when we met with his father, and a couple days later, my instincts went off.” Kuroo frowned deeply. “At first I didn’t want to believe it, but it quickly became clear that something was up.”

“Is…Is that why you were walking with him that night?”

“Yeah, I was ju—hey. Were you that freak who sent us that creepy-ass message?”

“I was mad, okay?” Koutarou pouted.

“That was pretty fucked, Bokuto.”

“I know, I know…so what were you saying, about Suguru?”

“Why don’t we ask him?” The demonologist nodded. “He’s waking-up.”

Sure enough, a groaning and in-pain Daishou was stirring against the cave, reaching for his aching and bruised forehead as Bokuto and Kuroo approached him, arms crossed seriously; Suguru coughed a few times, slitted eyes narrowing in pain after he finally managed to open their sore eyelids and take-in the current situation. When his brain caught up, he immediately began to whisper out pained apologies to his employee and step-brother.

“K…Kuroo…Bokuto…I’m—I’m sorry,” He breathed, clutching at his chest. “Didn’t…I didn’t know he…would…I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I guess.” His step-brother sighed, rolling his hazel eyes. “But…what exactly did you _do_ , Daishou? Summoning a fucking _demon_? Have you not listened to a single word I said?!”

Suguru’s expression told them he hadn’t, and the weak shop owner sat up a little straighter as more of his hoarse voice returned. Bokuto was just glad the creepy low demon voice was gone.

“I…saw you doing magic one day, when we were over for dinner,” Daishou explained quietly, shamefully. “I told my dad, and…and instead of turning you in, he…he seemed to… _care_ for you more than he cared about me.”

“Well, can you blame him?”

Koutarou shoved his elbow into Kuroo, who mumbled an apology and let his step-sibling continue.

“My dad…he…the original will had more for me, but after he found out about you…he _changed_ it,” Suguru said. “I was…I was upset because he favored you over me, just because you could do magic tricks and shit.”

“I see. So after that, what—you summoned a demon to do your dirty work?” Tetsurou questioned.

“Kind of,” His brother nodded, lowering his eyes. “I…summoned him to scare you, you being a demonologist and all, but…but instead, he…took control. He manipulated the government, too, and sent that law out—that wasn’t part of my plan, I just wanted to…to…”

“I understand,” The black-haired student sighed deeply. “You really underestimated the power of evil. Demons don’t play by our rules or go by our time—they make rules up as they go along, and any human who thinks they hold authority over them is a fool.”

“I know,” Suguru whispered. Bokuto had never seen him so close to tears before. “I’m really sorry, Kuroo, I…I don’t…I don’t know why…” He gave a frustrated huff at himself, swallowing his shame down. “ _I’m sorry_.”

“There there,” Kuroo said, patting Daishou’s messy hair like he would to a child. “I guess as your step-brother I’m obligated to forgive you…but as a demonologist, I’ll _never_ forgive you, Suguru.”

Tetsurou leaned down and slipped his arm around his step-brother’s shoulder, motioning for Bokuto to grab the other side.

“Come along—we better get you home, before your dad thinks you’re having an orgy in the forest. But first, Bokuto, are you going to explain—”

Kuroo stopped and looked around aimlessly as they supported Suguru’s weight.

“Where’d he go?”

“Where’d who go?”

“Your ghost boyfriend,” Daishou mumbled tiredly, disgusting his brother by lying his head in between Kuroo’s shoulder and neck. “What…What happened to him?”

“Akaashee?! Akaashee?!” Bokuto cried out, frightened now that he didn’t feel the ghost’s presence anymore.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry!” Tetsurou hushed, reaching over to gently pat Koutarou’s hand. “Ghosts always come back after they’ve had their Halloween fun.”

“A-Are you sure?”

“Dude—I just performed an _exorcism_ all by myself. Are you really questioning my knowledge on ghosts and the afterlife?”

Suguru snorted to himself as the boys readjusted their position and went on their way out of the forest. Too exhausted for transporting their group, they carried Daishou all the way into the city and caught a bus to Nohebi; all the while, Bokuto couldn’t help but worrying about his ghostly boyfriend, and whether or not he would ever see him again.

 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going straight to bed when I get back to the dorms,” Kuroo sighed heavily, rubbing his eyeballs as they approached Bokuto’s apartment door.

“I thought you promised Suguru you’d come take care of him after seeing me off?”

“Well, I was lying. He’s earned himself a lifetime of cruel tricks after pulling this friggin stunt—maybe I can give him treats once in a while…kinda like a lap dog, you know?”

Koutarou gave a breathless laugh while pulling out his apartment key, stopping by the door to face his best friend; there had been a lot of revelations this October, but strangely enough, Halloween Night had been the best day for the divination student. Sure, they would still have to face prejudice against witches for the rest of their life, probably, and Suguru would need a lot of time to heal, but…at least now, they were together again. They were both _witches_ , even, and neither of them would be alone in this ever again. Bokuto had never felt so comforted in his entire life. He let Kuroo know it, too, hugging him for the hundredth time that morning.

“You’re the best, Kuroo.” He grinned tiredly. “Thanks for everything.”

“No problem, buddy. Sorry for being a jerk this month—I was just really worried about you. I do what I do out of love.”

“I know,” Bokuto laughed. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for avoiding you. Can we practice spells tomorrow, after class?”

“You read my mind.”

Kuroo smiled happily at his best friend, giving him one last pat on the head before bidding him farewell and dragging his tired legs down the hall, disappearing for the day. Koutarou gave a huge sigh as he entered the apartment, knowing he wasn’t going to be greeted by the cute spirit of Akaashi Keiji when he walked in; the witch sleepily slid his sneakers and jacket off, and was about to pull himself to the bathroom for a nice long shower when he noticed a pile of Halloween candy sitting on the kitchen table, ready for eating.

“Candy?” Bokuto wondered out-loud, sitting down and investigating with a slight frown. “How did this…”

The witch quickly scanned the apartment, but not seeing Akaashi anywhere, glanced back at the pile and pondered silently; he was just about to dig into the candy when a rush of air tickled the back of his neck, just like when he first moved in.

“Kaashi?! Is that you?!”

“Of course it’s me,” That familiar cool voice replied, though no form appeared. “I told you I’d always be with you, didn’t I, Bokuto-san?”

“Y-Yeah, you did!” Koutarou nodded with a happy little smile. That statement made him happier than the overrated “i love you” one. “Did you bring me this candy?”

“I may have collected some before returning home, yes.”

“Sweet! Thanks!”

The owlish man giggled to himself as he levitated a piece of his favorite candy into the air.

“You know…I never thought I would say this, but I’m really happy I got haunted this Halloween. I learned a lot, and I’m glad I realized I was never alone in this crazy world.” He nodded certainly. “I hope I get haunted next October, too! I’m too cute to spook, after all.”

 

When Bokuto cheerfully went to unwrap his candy, the amused ghost of apartment 4B snatched it from his grip, flinging the piece across the living room as the witch whined.

 

“Akaashi!!!”

 

_Fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't get enough of Halloween Haikyuu fics, go check out my Iwaoi/Matsuhana fic from last year, "You're Invited: the Haikyuu Halloween Wedding of the Century!"
> 
> Thanks for reading, and have a haunted Halloween!
> 
> insta: bodhi_the_bird  
> AO3 original: BodhiJolieLark

**Author's Note:**

> me: *searching witchcraft into google*  
> fbi: alert alert, witches return to America  
> me: no, wait, it's just research fo-  
> fbi: KILL THE WITCH SPILL HER BLOOD  
> me: u asked for it AAAAVADA KEDAVRA
> 
> OCTOBERRRR ficcccc. thus begins another month of stressful, hurried writing for me, even though I actually planned ahead and wrote 4 chaps ahead of time! I hoped I could get at least six done, but this fic has been harder to write than I expected so far. Great, huh?
> 
> Enjoy, please leave comments, kudos, bookmarks, etc!


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